Nax informs our party, “Crew always eats first because they’ll set up the next shot. Stars don’t always sit with us for meals, oftentimes eating in their trailers. But she’s a gem.” He jogs his chin toward a celebrity actress who’s been around for many decades, laughing at a table of people who hang on her every word. “Yesterday she sat with the grips. Today with background talent who don’t even have lines. If she ever had an ego about her status, that time is long gone.” He takes a bite of his sausage pizza as Zia touches his hair with love in her eyes.
Will asks me, “Why meatless meatball? Why don’t you just get a meatball pasta?”
Joe reminds him, “That wasn’t on the menu.”
“Meatball pizza was,” Will says holding up his slice.
Joe grins, “Mmm,” taking a bite from his own and adding with his mouth full, “Meatball pizza!”
Josh smirks to Nax, “My boy is teaching yours good habits.”
“The talking with his mouthful?” Nax smirks and takes a bite, talking through it. “I taught him that.”
This earns a grin from Josh, and a stomach churn of need from me. Knowing he would be here and actually seeing him face-to-face for the first time in two months are two very separate things. I’d prepared myself, or so I thought. Who am I kidding? I had no clue I would be this impacted. Part of me wants to slap his face, the other wants to sit on his lap.
While I push my food around, Evan and Nax move into a discussion on the impact of movies versus sculpture and painting. My brother is unwilling to accept how film has had a greater impact in modern day culture. Everyone at the table listens to their debate until Will calls everyone’s attention to me.
“Isn’t your pasta good?”
I glance to Nax, “It’s delicious. Your caterer is very good.” Locking eyes with Will I smile, “I’m just not very hungry.”
“Want dessert?”
With everyone staring at me, I admit, “I love dessert.”
He points to an ice cream maker I hadn’t seen. “They have fudge and everything!”
“Not all of my dad’s films have that,” Joe adds with authority, “I asked for it on this one, so he made sure they had one.”
Eager for a way out of here, and an avid fan of ice cream, I rise from the table. “Who doesn’t love hot fudge?”
The boys shoot up from their seats and, as we walk together, I feel a huge weight lifted. Children are so much easier to be around than a much-too-handsome dark cloud who won’t look at me, yet who I’m painfully aware of. I’m so angry that he even exists, it’s driving me crazy. The pull to him is so strong it’s making me question my sanity. Why would I be attracted to someone who’s so rude to me? It’s not a question of low self-esteem. I’m a pretty secure woman. So why does he undo me like this?
I have to stay away from him.
We arrive at a folding table bearing the weight of a soft-serve machine surrounded by stainless steel containers offering a variety of deliciousness. The boys take turns pointing out each one, Will first.
“Sprinkles.”
“Fudge.”
“Strawberries!”
“These are cashews.”
Will frowns, “Those are peanuts.”
Joe looks closer. “Maybe they’re peanuts. Huh, last time they were cashews, that’s why I thought it. Cherries!”
With finality Will declares, “Caramel! Ta da!” blue eyes filled with concentration as he asks, “Which one do you want, Tempest?”
“Hmm. Tough call. They all look so good. My first instinct was fudge, however caramel is not normally available.”
He nods, “Fudge is more common.”
“Let’s go for caramel then, with peanuts. You wanna make it for me?” Including Joe, I smile, “Wow me.”
Together they work until I’ve got a bowl with enough ice cream for three people and caramel for five. Will lifts a cherry with tongs, carefully placing it atop their masterpiece. “There! It needed a final touch.”
“Wow guys!” Taking the offering I grin, “This is impressive! Aren’t you having any?”
Will touches his stomach. “I ate a lot of Crafty.”
“Too much?”
Disappointed he sighs, “Yeah.”
Joe shrugs, “That’s okay. You’re coming back tomorrow right?”
“That’s right! I am!”
Unable to hold curiosity at bay, I snoop, “You and your dad are coming back?”
“Dad’s speaking at three high schools tomorrow. Joe gets bored being here all alone when his dad is working.”
I glance to Joe’s reluctant nod. “I’m used to sets.”
“I can imagine you’d run out of things to do,” I offer.
“Uh huh. And Dad’s busy so…”
“Can you watch the scenes being filmed or do you have to wait somewhere else?”
Not wanting to disparage his father’s work, or take the fun out of movie-making for Will, Joe is slow to admit, “Sometimes I get to watch them. Unless the actors need a closed set for privacy. But when they switch up camera angles and do them over and over and…it can get pretty boring. It’s not like in the movie where you see the best parts.”
Will grins, “I want to see them mess up their lines!”
Coming back to life, Joe says, “It’s really funny when they do that!”
“We can throw cherries at them, like they used to do on stage when actors sucked!”
“Dad would ground me for months!”
Will waves, “Worth it.”
“My ice cream is melting so I’m going back to the table. I’ll tell you what, guys.” They huddle with me as I whisper, “I know nothing about any cherry throwing. If some goes missing from that container, I didn’t see it.” The boys mischievously grin, and I head off. But my smile fades as I lock eyes with Josh.
How long was he watching us?
My eyes sharpen and I silently challenge him, give me your best shot, jerk. There’s nothing wrong with getting a little damn ice cream. Or a lot.
Reclaiming my seat I discover my brother and Nax are still in full debate, Evan only pausing to pick up a spoon, “Is that caramel?!” and dig in without asking me, just as he’s always done.
Josh is still watching me, I can feel it. I lock eyes with him, push the bowl closer to my brother, and stand up. “Where’s the bathroom?”
With a knowing look Zia rises from her seat. “I’ll show you.”
Chapter 11
The crew went back to work before lunch was over for the cast and background actors, so the warehouse is a tornado of activity again, Nax leading the way into it. “We’re about to shoot an action scene which you all can watch. After that it’ll be a closed set for most of the day. You want to stick around for this?”
Will shouts, “Can we, Dad?”
Just as interested in action scenes as he is, I grin, “Totally!”
But Tempest clears her throat. “Um, we’re taking off.”
Her brother stares like she’s nuts. “We are?”
“I have to be at work, remember?”
“I thought that wasn’t until tonight.”
“Traffic,” she insists, “We’re not taking the subway, Evan. We had to take a Lyft.”
“Even so, you’ve got plenty of…” he stops talking. “Right. We have to get going.” Tempest relaxes and hugs Zia goodbye but freezes as her brother announces, “Right after the first action shot!”
With a stiff jaw, Tempest follows us in, and I fall back to include her since everyone else is meeting Nax’s quick pace as he acts the tour guide, explaining everything we pass.
She and I silently walk side-by-side until Tempest spins around, and walks out, leaving me staring after her, frown piercing my forehead as one of the male stars walks into the warehouse for his scene, and turns on his heel to watch her exit. His eyebrows lift, famous head craning to watch Tempest for as long as he can, drinking her in.
My chest goes tight. He’s clearly thinking of going after her. I take tw
o steps, but pause as the film’s director shouts, “Where’s Stefan?”
“Here!” the asshole calls back, strolling into set. Our eyes lock and he cocks his head at my expression. I follow him until he passes Nax, and find my buddy is smirking at me. Probably thinks this Stefan guy is a douche, too. We always agree on these things, especially when it’s so obvious.
Crew shouts to each other, and soon the set goes quiet. When the director says, “Action,” my mind is elsewhere. I don’t hear or see a thing until gunshots ring out, pulling me back to the present. A stuntwoman falls four stories from a fake building into a net that will never be seen in the film. Atop the building, another actress screams, gripping the side and bursting into tears.
The director shouts, “Cut! Let’s go again.”
Will runs over and grabs my arm. “Dad! Dad! I want to be a stuntman!”
“Can’t blame you there. It was pretty cool.”
He looks around. “Where’s Tempest?”
Our group turns to me, like I’m the reason, “She left.”
Evan shakes his head. “Hey, this was fun, Nax, thanks. Zia, I’ll see you later.”
She nods once, “Bye Evan,” grim black eyes following him before locking onto me for a frustrated second. Facing the set, Zia crosses her arms and doesn’t look my way again until Nax tells us he has to close the set. Zia kisses him, “I love you,” and looks at me like she wishes we didn’t have to share a car home.
While we wait for the car to arrive, Will and Joe discuss which stunts will be more difficult when Will becomes a stuntman. With that exhausted, they lose steam, sugar and excitement crash hitting them hard.
Our driver’s playlist fills the void between Zia and I.
She’s pissed at me.
I didn’t do anything.
Why defend myself?
I glance to Nax’s son as he lets out a snore loud enough for a grown man. Glancing across the boys to Zia I smirk. “Wow,” to lighten the air.
She gives me nothing. Just keeps staring out her window.
Will pokes Joe’s mouth until he swats him away, “Quit it!” sleepily looking around as the car slows at 80 Varick Street.
Zia opens her door to traffic, “Bye guys. Have fun at Josh’s.”
I find myself stepping out of the car, too, telling our driver, “Hang tight. I’ll be right back,” and squeezing around parked cars to call out, “Zia!”
She pauses on the fourth stair. “What, Josh?”
“You’re pissed at me.”
Not wanting the boys to see her face, she descends, puts her back to the waiting Honda, and addresses me with a voice hushed but furious. “I’m really tired of how you treat my cousin, Josh.”
“How do I treat her?”
“Oh please! You’re such a jerk around her. I don’t get it. Whenever she’s not around, you’re great. I’m a fan. But if Tempest ever joins us, you’re just the biggest dick! You really are! Did you know that she has turned down every invitation for the past two months because you might be there? She’s missing out on things because of you! I’m sick of it. I love her. She’s a fantastic human being if you ever took a second to look. Fine! You’re not into her. You’ve made that extremely clear. But news flash! Nobody asked you to be! How about just being friends? Or, I don’t know, polite?! I was hoping that today, because it was such a cool thing, we could have fun as a group. But you hardly said a word. You don’t act like the you I know whenever she’s not around. You’re tense, terse, and downright dark.”
“Wow,” I whisper.
Zia takes a step closer, black eyes narrowing. “You made her lose her appetite. She couldn’t even eat the damn ice cream! And it’s ice cream! What is your problem?”
“Bye Zia.” I walk to the street, tap the car, “Hey guys, let’s walk,” and tell our driver, “Close out the ride, thanks.”
He nods, “You got it,” waiting for the back door to close behind Joe and Will, and for traffic to clear for merging.
The boys wave to Zia, and I cut her a look, but say nothing more. It’s a few blocks to home, with their energy returned by the cool air. My thoughts, as usual, are elsewhere. It’s not that Zia is one of my best friend’s girlfriends that makes me care about what she said. I didn’t like his ex, Liz, but I put up with her. Well, actually didn’t have to, since they moved to California. I like Zia Tuck. She’s not the problem.
It’s that now I know why Tempest was looking at me like that all afternoon. Was it real hatred, or just defensive-hatred? There’s a big difference.
As the three of us turn onto our block I’m slammed into the present moment by a sight I never expected to see today — a greying redheaded man with a weathered face in a pea coat and suit, freckles dark, mouth grim, standing in front of my apartment building waiting for me.
Bennett’s father.
Or the guy we think must be him.
Will and Joe keep moving with the same energy they’ve had as my steps slow, eyes locked with the ghost of my best friend’s abandoned childhood.
“You’re Bennett’s friend?”
I frown, “Yeah,” wondering if I should tackle him so he doesn’t escape this time. “You uh…you wanna see him?”
Sliding rough hands into thick coat pockets, he spreads his legs like he’s made the decision the time is now. “Is that possible?”
“It’s more than possible.” I motion to my apartment building. “Come on up. I’ll text him you’re here.”
“You know who I am?”
“Have a pretty good idea. But I’ll let Bennett get the answers first. He deserves that.” My eyes narrow on the man. “And a lot more.” I point to the door, indicating he should walk up the stairs first so I can keep an eye on him. I swear if he makes a break for it, I’ll punch him out and block that plan.
Trusting I know what’s going on, Will is staring at me, Joe looking from his friend to me as I text:
Bennett, the guy who might be your father is at my place. We’re waiting for you.
During a silent elevator ride, the reply comes:
If he tries to make a break for it, you have my permission to knock him out.
Great minds think alike.
Chapter 12
Bennett lives a couple of blocks away, so the knock at my door comes fast. In his usual uniform of an expensive suit that’s mirrored in his equally redheaded son, Bennett stands with Elliot outside of my door like he doesn’t know if he should run or not.
Two havenese dogs — that Elliot oddly named Tempest and Nax — pull at their leashes, excited to be back where three boys will play with them until everyone passes out.
“Take your dogs to Will’s room,” Bennett grunts. “Don’t come out until I say.”
“Okay, Dad.” Elliot lets the dogs lead the way, pushing his glasses up on a nose wrinkled by curiosity at the sight of a stranger standing by my kitchen window, watching him intently.
Having prepared for this moment all of his life, thinking it would never come, Bennett locks eyes with the ghost.
They stare at each other until Will’s bedroom door clicks.
Bennett walks closer. “Are you the man I was supposed to call Dad?”
Coat still on, aged hands at his sides now, the old man nods once, eyes tortured. “You look so much like your grandfather.”
Bennett snaps, “My grandfather?!” He throws out his arm in accusation, “I look like you!”
“More like him.”
“I never met him.” Bennett grunts, “Never had a chance. The man is long gone now. Like you were.” Taking a step closer, he demands, “Why are you back? Why now? What do you want?”
“That what you really want to ask me?”
Bennett’s volcano is building pressure. I stay by the door to give them space as he takes another step toward the father he’s never known. My dining set is the only thing between them.
“Where the hell have you been all of these years? Why did you…” Bennett’s jaw clamps and he grips the table wi
th both hands.
Regret taints his dad’s “Why did I leave you?”
Bennett lifts the table and slams it down. “Why did you leave me with that woman?! The Viper!? How could you do that to your only son? Why didn’t you want to know me? Raise me?” He straightens, lets go of the table. “Or I might be assuming things, right? Maybe you have another family somewhere, other sons, or daughters, you actually wanted to raise. Do you?”
“No.”
“So I’m the only one you tried to ruin?”
Pain twists his father’s face. “I don’t have any kids beside you.”
“You don’t have me!” Bennett shouts, “You didn’t want me so you can never have me now! Why are you here?!”
His father’s voice is quiet. “I couldn’t raise you.”
“Wouldn’t raise me!”
Shaking his head, hazel eyes thick with crows feet drop to the floor in shame. “No, I couldn’t.”
I go tense as Bennett walks his dad up against the wall, viciously lashing out with each word. “Do you know what your sister did to me? Do you know what an evil bitch that woman you left me with was? Did you know I called her The Viper my entire life and was nothing but relieved when she finally bit the dust and gave me peace? Did you know that’s how bad it had to be for me to feel that way? You think you couldn’t have done a better job than that demon did, because I guarantee you that’s not possible!”
“Hit me. I deserve it.”
Bennett’s fist lands hard and fast, a loud crack echoing through the apartment as his dad’s head crashes into my far wall. Blood spurts from the old man’s nose, and Benny steps back, shaking out his hand. “That’s right. You do deserve it.”
He locks eyes with me as Will’s door opens.
We look over to the boys, one dog each in Elliot’s and Joe’s arms, five sets of eyes scanning for what made that noise. Can’t hide a bloody nose like this one.
Bennett grunts, “Elliot, sometimes a guy needs a good punching. Go back inside.”
Every Single Thing About You: A “Tuck Yes” Love Story - Book 3 Page 6
