by M. S. Parker
A second later, I heard the door open, then Rhett came back into the kitchen, his expression stiff. “It’s for you.”
Confused, I looked up and saw Dallas enter the small space. His handsome face was serene and calm, those green eyes almost mesmerizing in their coloring. I knew who Rhett thought it was, but I could tell the difference.
“Rhett, this is Dallas,” I said, ignoring the twist in my stomach.
“Oh, this is Dallas.” Rhett’s face lit up. He extended a hand, which Dallas shook in return.
Dallas grinned. “I’ve heard a lot about you. It was great of you to step up and help Jinx out after...well, you know. I wanted to, but it would’ve looked bad if she’d come to stay with me.”
Rhett made a halo over his head with his hands. “I’m just a saint at heart. Can I get you anything to drink? To eat?”
“I’m okay for now, thanks. Smells delicious in here though.”
Rhett laughed. “Jinx is baking for the big housewarming party tonight. She didn’t tell me that she invited any of the Mikelsons.” He winked at me. “Not that I mind.”
“I, um, didn’t invite him.” I winced and went on quickly, “Not that I didn’t want you here, Dallas, just...well, you know.”
Though I suspected he had a Mikelson devilish streak, Dallas had been unbelievably kind and gentle with me over the past week. Moving out of Drew’s house had been the easiest part of the whole thing. It was one thing to pack up a house, it was another to pack up your heart. Dallas had come by my office a couple days after the break up to apologize for the part he thought he played in the split. Though I assured him it wasn’t his fault, I still found it touching that he’d come to apologize in the first place.
“I understand,” Dallas said. “I was just in town and wanted to see how you were doing. If you’d, uh, heard anything.”
It looked like Drew had been outright ignoring Dallas since that night at the bar. Such a typical Drew thing to do. So immature.
“No,” I said with a sad shake of my head. “Haven’t heard anything. I don’t think I will.” I paused, studying Dallas. I could tell his twin’s disregard was getting to him. I couldn’t imagine the kind of guilt he must feel.
“Do you want me to reach out to him?” I asked. “He might talk to me if I called.”
I watched his eyes glitter as he considered it and held my breath. I didn’t think I could call Drew and survive, whether he answered or not. Rhett would find me drowned in a puddle of my own tears, clutching my phone in my hand. All the same, if it would help mend the rift I’d opened up between the two brothers, I would do it.
“No, that’s okay,” Dallas said finally. “He clearly doesn’t want to talk to me. I don’t blame him.”
“Dallas, it’s not your fault,” I said, laying a hand on his arm. “Drew’s issues are his own problems.”
“I guess.” He looked away from me, clearly not wanting to catch my eyes. His gaze landed on the cooling tray. “Are those cookies?”
“Barely,” Rhett muttered.
“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth, kicking Rhett in the side of the foot. “They’re probably delicious too. Please help yourself.”
Dallas moved over to the stove and took a cookie off the tray, munching it with a little more ease in his expression.
“Delaney keeps asking about you,” Dallas said. “Mom too. I told her it would be awkward for you to come over for dinner, and she said the only one it would be awkward for is Drew, and that he can shove it because he’s not here to provide his opinion.”
Rhett laughed, and my heart twisted a little.
“That’s really nice of them,” I said, “but I think I’d feel awkward. I like your family a lot, but it’s not like I’ll be invited to the next Mikelson barbecue as soon as Drew’s back in town.”
Dallas shrugged. “That’s what I thought. Figured I’d pass along the invite anyway. Apparently, it’s an open invitation with no expiry date.”
“Good to know,” I said, forcing a smile to my face. “So, what are you up to today? You’re here already. You may as well stay for the party.”
Rhett’s eyes lit up. He was still putting cans of beer in the fridge, but his attention discreetly shifted over to the conversation at hand. Poor guy. I was pretty sure Dallas was as straight as the day was long, but I didn’t blame Rhett for hoping. If I wasn’t totally bat shit crazy about his brother, I’d definitely be interested in him myself.
“Can’t, unfortunately,” Dallas said. “I appreciate the invite though.”
I looked back at the cookies. “Of course. Anytime.”
Dallas snagged another couple of cookies before leaving. I walked him out and headed back into the kitchen, where Rhett had begun arranging meat and cheese onto a platter.
“I think you picked the wrong brother,” Rhett said. “Though I suppose there’s no reason you can’t go after Dallas now that you and Drew are through.”
“Of course there are reasons I can’t go after Dallas,” I said, rolling my eyes. “That’s crazy talk, right there.”
Rhett raised one wary brow. “What reason besides the fact that Drew would be pissed? Which, by the way, is not a deal breaker as far as I’m concerned.” He smiled dreamily. “If that boy was gay, I’d be on him like ants on a picnic.”
I snorted. “It’s not about that. It’s...” I paused, thinking hard. When I spoke again, my words were hoarser. Quieter. Because Rhett’s innocent line of questioning had unexpectedly hit home somewhere deep inside of me. “I don’t want Dallas. I don’t want anyone else.” I pressed my fingers against my temples. “I only want Drew.”
“What? Didn’t hear you.”
My voice was so quiet that Rhett apparently hadn’t heard me while he was fumbling around in the fridge for his misplaced brie.
“I said I don’t want to date anyone right now,” I replied, tossing a hunk of sliced gouda at his face. “And if you try to set me up with anyone, I’ll make sure every gay guy within a ten-mile radius knows that you vomited all over the professor in our second-year sociology class.”
Rhett scowled and tossed the whole brie at me.
29
Drew
Osric Rhee was a hard guy to get an impression from. He was completely cool and collected, whether he was directing a stunt or ordering a sandwich from the refreshments cart. So while it didn’t surprise me that he had absolutely no reaction to the stunts I’d just performed for him, I still found it unsettling. I’d never wanted someone’s approval so much in my life.
“I think,” Osric said, taking a long sip of his water, “that you’ve got talent. We’d have to work on developing a little more finesse, but there’s potential here.”
I was still in my riding gear, even though it was sweltering in the small lot. But his words were like a brush of cool air against my face. I smiled wider than I had in days. Weeks.
“That’s amazing! Thank you!”
I couldn’t believe it. One of Hollywood’s most up and coming stunt choreographers wanted to work with me. I could barely contain my excitement.
“I’m working on a movie right now, actually,” Osric continued. “And I could use a set of talents like yours. Would you be available?”
I nodded enthusiastically, sending a lock of dark hair into my eyes. I pushed it back.
“I’m definitely available whenever you want to begin.”
I knew I shouldn’t have sounded so keen, but this was the biggest opportunity that had ever come my way, and I was going to seize it with both hands. Life was too short to play coy with shit like this.
“Great.” Osric’s dark eyes swept over me. “We’ll have to get you fitted. We’re working with some of the best technology and gear in the industry.” He chuckled. “Makes for a lot of customization. When could you start?”
“Honestly, I could start as early as tomorrow,” I said. “But if there’s too much prep to do before then...”
“No, not at all,” Osric said with a dismissive wav
e. “I’ll have you shadowing a couple of the more experienced guys while you get your bearings. Tomorrow it is.”
Without another word, he left me standing there and walked off to talk to someone else. Wasn’t much of one to linger, I gathered.
I’d just landed my first big stunt job, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I wanted to get back on my bike and do something dangerous, but the idea of getting injured right before I took such a huge step in my career was enough to dissuade me.
So what now?
The hotel Herman had put me up in wasn’t exactly the Ritz, but it was nice enough. Certainly better than half of the fleabag motels that seemed to dot the landscape around Hollywood. It had a pool, which was where I decided to spend the rest of my afternoon. I’d already told Herman the great news but had yet to tell anyone from home.
Mostly because I didn’t know what I was going to tell them.
Obviously, I would be staying in LA for the time being, but then what? If I intended to stay longer, to continue down this path, I’d need to seek out somewhere a little more permanent to live. I would have to do something with my house. My truck. The life waiting for me back in North Carolina.
Yet there seemed to be much less to leave behind now that Jinx was gone. If she and I had still been together, maybe my new job would have left a sour taste in my mouth. She had made the decision for me before either of us even knew the decision would need to be made. I could stay in Los Angeles because there wasn’t another option for me anymore. Not a better one, anyway.
I spread myself out on one of the poolside loungers and considered what I needed to do. I didn’t want to tell my family the news because Mom and Delaney would be upset that I’d be living on the other side of the country, and all three of them would lose their minds if I told Derek first. I could rely on Dallas not to get all weepy about it, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to talk to him yet.
Then again, it was starting to seem like I didn’t have a choice. I was a big boy after all. I had to get over my pride and talk to him soon anyway.
He picked up almost instantly. He’d obviously been waiting for me to call.
“You’re alive.” His voice was dry.
I rolled my eyes. “Yes. I’m sure someone would have called you otherwise.”
“So you’re ready to talk?” Dallas asked. “I figured that fourteenth apology text would do the trick.”
I smiled despite myself. Dallas always had a way of making me laugh, even when at least one of us was being a complete dick – which was most of the time.
“I got a job,” I told him. “I’m staying here in LA.”
“What?” I could hear movement in the background, like Dallas was heading out to somewhere quiet to talk. “Permanently?”
“I guess so. As long as I don’t screw it up and get sent back home with my tail between my legs.”
Dallas whistled through his teeth. “Mom’s not going to like that. I’m guessing you’re calling me in hopes I’ll tell her. But I won’t.”
We were two of the most unalike twins there ever were, but he could sure read my mind like we were the same person sometimes. I squinted at the sun, hanging low in the sky like a gold pendant.
“Yeah, well. I’ll call her after she’s had some time to process.” After a pause, I added, “Same with Delaney.”
“You’re sure you want to do this, man?” Dallas asked. “You’ve just had a pretty big life change. Jumping into another one so soon afterward–”
“I’m fine, Dallas,” I cut in. “And it wouldn’t matter what kinds of life changes I went through. This is my dream; it’s always been my dream. I’m going to follow it.”
“Of course.”
He paused, and I could tell he was gathering his thoughts. I prepared myself to listen to another apology.
“Have you told Jinx?”
I abruptly hung up the phone and slammed it on the table next to me so I wouldn’t give in to the temptation to throw the damn thing into the pool.
30
Jinx
The living room was filled with the sounds of fingers tapping on keys and my frequent sighs. I’d decided to write up a social media guide for the Gazette since it had been a complete and utter mess before my arrival, and I knew that someday I wouldn’t be there to keep it going anymore. The last thing the paper needed was for Leslie to accidentally tweet out one of her Google searches again, so I didn’t mind putting in a little extra time and effort to write clear and concise instructions and approaches for each of our platforms.
Still, it wasn’t the most stimulating of tasks. My attention kept wandering, which was something it had been doing a lot recently. Something that was starting to drive me crazy.
Imagining myself as a championship sprinter on the last leg of a race, I pushed harder and went deeper into my work. The louder I thought about Twitter hashtags and other assorted terminology, the less I could hear the thoughts I was really trying to avoid. The Drew thoughts.
“Still typing up a storm I see,” commented Rhett from the doorway. “I was hoping you’d take a break so I could sneak a peek at your laptop and make sure you haven’t just been typing gibberish for the past two hours.”
I frowned at him over the screen of my laptop. “Not funny.”
He put his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Backing off.” After assessing me for a second, Rhett got to the real reason he was hovering in the hallway. “I’m a bit worried about you. You’ve been all work and no play ever since you broke up with Drew.”
“Because there’s lots of work for me to do at the Grantsboro Gazette,” I said primly. “If I can make myself useful, why shouldn’t I?”
Rhett wouldn’t fight me on it, I could already tell. But that didn’t mean he was okay with me occupying every last second with either work or household tasks. He was a firm believer in stepping away and getting some air when your stress level got too high. It was the whole reason I was supposed to be in North Carolina in the first place. But even he wasn’t ready to intervene in my transformation into a workaholic. Not yet, anyway.
“I’m going to the store,” Rhett said. “I was thinking of swinging by my parents’ afterward if you wanted to come. They’ve been asking about you since they barely saw you at the party.”
I hadn’t been in much of a partying mood and had retired to my bedroom well before the party ended. From the sounds of things, it had been a raucous good time. I didn’t think Rhett blamed me for being absent, but I knew he didn’t necessarily approve either.
For that reason, and because I knew it would be good to get out of the house, I slowly closed the lid on my laptop.
“Sure,” I said, surprising us both.
Rhett grinned. “Hurry up, or we’ll get stuck in the rush.”
He wiggled his eyebrows, and I couldn’t help but laugh. His parents always complained about how busy the grocery store was on Sunday afternoons when it wasn’t anything compared to what we were used to in Boston. And that was at almost any time of day.
I missed Boston. I liked it here in Holmwood, just as I liked working in Grantsboro. Rhett’s family had been so welcoming to me, and for some reason held me partially responsible for the return of their son to them. I didn’t know why since I knew he’d always intended to move back to North Carolina after college, but there was little I could say to Mrs. Waters to suggest otherwise. I would have liked to see more of the Mikelson family too but didn’t feel as comfortable spending time with them. It seemed weird now, even though Dallas didn’t seem to think so.
Rhett and I strolled through the deserted aisles of the supermarket like a grumpy, but loving, couple. He vetoed my marshmallow fluff; I vetoed his bacon mayonnaise. It felt comfortable, but even this brief period of domestic bliss couldn’t distract me from the sense of doubt weighing in my stomach. Doubt about what I was supposed to do. Doubt about what I had done too, but I tried to squash that down because it wouldn’t do to dwell on my breakup. Drew had been in the wrong. He
hadn’t tried to make things right. End of story.
My phone buzzed in my pocket while we browsed for cheese. It startled me, and for a second, I thought it might be Drew. The thought sent a spike of adrenaline coursing through my veins, and I clumsily retrieved the device. It was a Massachusetts number, but not one I was familiar with. I frowned at the screen.
“I’ve got to take this,” I said to Rhett.
He threw a hunk of gouda into the cart. “No problem. Maybe some hottie will think you’re my neglectful girlfriend and take pity on me.”
I stuck my tongue out at Rhett and answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Hi, is this Jinx Lockley?” a female voice asked.
“It is.”
“H, Jinx. This is Marianne Wheeler calling from The Boston Globe. How are you doing today?”
My heart did a flip in my chest. The Boston Globe. How the hell had I forgotten about The Boston Globe?
I gaped and looked around desperately for Rhett. I suddenly felt like I needed someone to hang on to.
“Uh, I’m great thanks. How are you?”
“Excellent,” Marianne replied. “I’m calling to discuss your application with us. Do you have a minute to talk?”
I found Rhett in the meat section, holding up two cuts of steak and comparing them to each other. He was a man who loved his barbecue, and I suspected he’d spent most of the time I’d been on the call taking a leisurely stroll through his favorite meats.
“Rhett!”
His eyes snapped to me as I jogged down the refrigerated aisle. “What is it? Did Timmy fall down the well?”
I managed a wheezing laugh as I stopped in front of him. My elevated heart rate was from more than just sprinting the whole way here. I could barely form the words.
“That was The Boston Globe,” I explained in a rush. “They want me to come in for a second interview.”
