by Lulu Pratt
“But they aren’t,” I said. “They’re still there, they’re just different, I guess.”
“So, how about the future?” she asked. “You said last night you own a mechanic shop. Is that what you’re going to do, or is there something else on your mind?”
“Well,” I smiled. “Both, kind of. My dream is to have more than one shop. I want to have a bunch if I can, but I want to split my time, working at the different ones throughout the month. I don’t ever want to be a paper pusher, I guess you’d call it, and I never want to just be the checkbook. I like working on cars, and I’m good at it, which is why I opened the shop to begin with. I have a good relationship with the people in my town and they trust me to do quality honest work. The other guys, the corporate ones, you take your car in for a tire rotation and the next thing you know they’ve talked you into a bunch of stuff you don’t need, so you end up dropping a thousand dollars. I don’t do that. Every time I work on a car I make a list of all the things they should do to it, and I give them the time frame when each should get done. Sometimes immediately, but generally things are spread out over time to even five years away.”
“That’s really nice,” she said, listening intently. “An honest mechanic, that is refreshing. I’m the girl who struggled to add oil to the car or understand the theory of changing a tire, but pays for AAA just in case I get a flat because I know myself better than that. I’ve probably paid an absurd amount of money to mechanics in the past, replacing things that I had no clue what they even were — just because they used scare tactics with the words like ‘engine blowing up’ or ‘breakdowns’ in the sentence. I just paid to have it done and hoped for the best.”
We ended up sitting at that table through the whole morning, just talking about who we were, what we did and what our dreams were. By the time lunch rolled around we hadn’t even put the breakfast food away. I suggested we head out to a local deli to grab some lunch and she was more than happy to go along with it. There was something about her smile that made my heart flutter. Honestly, I couldn’t quite understand what was going on with me.
At lunch we continued talking, changing the subject to Los Angeles and what it was like to grow up there. She wasn’t the stereotypical California girl, or the typical wannabe actress either. She seemed just like a down-home girl, just a lot less country.
“Los Angeles has been my home, you know, all my life,” she said, taking a bite of her salad. “I’ve been other places, but I always want to come back home. I have to say though, San Diego definitely has its charms — a little less crime, and way more laid back than here. Still, I like it here, and California has everything. We have mountains, we have the dessert, we have the ocean and we have constant happy sunshine. It’s great.”
I sat and listened to her, sipping my drink and laughing at stories of her teen years growing up near the ocean. I knew that this whole thing had been set up by the production company, but what they couldn’t do was give us such a great lunch together. They couldn’t set up how absolutely genuine this girl seemed to be. We were getting to know each other, and it was a surprise, but one that I didn’t mind in the least.
But man, could she ever talk!
CHAPTER 8
Mira
When I woke up that next morning, I felt good, sitting up in the bed and stretching my arms up high in the air. I looked over for Ryan, but he wasn’t there. I climbed out of bed and grabbed some clothes, reaching for the bathroom door knob, but stopping at the sound of the shower. My dream from our wedding night immediately blew through my mind, including a bonus image of his rock-hard body under the steamy stream of water in the shower. I shook my head from side to side knocking the thoughts away. Yesterday had been really awesome with us getting to know one another, and I didn’t want to screw it up by constantly thinking about him naked. I took a shower in the one of the bathrooms down the hall, then brought my dirty clothes back to our bedroom.
“Good morning,” Ryan smiled as I walked in. “Sleep well?”
“I did!” I smiled and turned to the dresser, trying to hide the unexpected blush.
“Are you ready to meet with Evelyn?”
“Yep,” I said, turning around. “If I can take that much activity first thing in the morning.”
Just then the doorbell rang, and I laughed, shaking my head. We both walked downstairs and ushered her in, settling her in the living room to sit down and talk. She looked a bit calmer than before, probably because everything had finally got underway.
“You are both doing great,” she smiled. “Yesterday’s lunch was fantastic. Now, we have a whole list of things we’re going to set you up to do over the next six months. You are basically going to be doing something out there and fun several times a week. Tonight — drum roll, please — you are going to be going to a paint night together at a local restaurant. You’ll have an instructor who will help you paint a picture while you’re at dinner. There will be drinks, talking and just a lot of fun.”
“That sounds neat,” I smiled, glancing at Ryan who just lifted his eyebrows and nodded his head accordingly.
“Hmm,” Evelyn said, lifting a brow. “You, Mr. Man-of-Few-Words, we need to work on this. You need to open up, talk, laugh and have a good time. I know the cameras can be weird, always right there, always filming, but you’ve got to learn to ignore that. People — your fans — want to get to know you, they want you to be yourself. They don’t want to tune into a robot every week.”
“But I am being myself,” Ryan said, looking confused. “This is just how I am.”
“Then bust that bubble and start being more outgoing,” Evelyn said, as if she didn’t hear him.
I looked at him and smirked, shrugging my shoulders. There really wasn’t anything I could do to help him besides get the conversation up and running. How he responded was up to him, but after spending the last two days with him, I was pretty sure he was being for real, and he actually was just a quiet person. I looked up at Harrison, the regular cameraman, and watched as he gave Ryan a knowing look. I had a feeling that Harrison and Ryan were a lot alike, especially since I had tried to talk to Harrison a couple of times, but he too seemed to be quiet.
“So,” Evelyn said, “enjoy your day but the car will be here at seven to pick you up for dinner. Your outfits will be sent over by early afternoon, so make sure you try them on to see that everything fits properly. If you need me, you know where to find me.”
“Thank you,” I said, standing up and walking her to the door.
She looked at me and smiled, turning her gaze to Ryan and shaking her head. As soon as I closed the door I began to giggle, watching Ryan sigh and walk back into the other room. At least she wasn’t being insulting, she didn’t seem to have too much of a filter.
During the day we lounged around, watching TV, reading and just relaxing. When the outfits arrived, we tried them on and sent word that they would be fine. I was never the girl who was especially into clothes, but I kind of liked the fact that I got to wear designer things and never had to pick them out for myself. It was like a live closet at all times, and I kind of wished I could take some of them home with me.
By seven that evening we were both ready to go, though I could see I was more excited about this than Ryan was. I loved art of all different kinds and I had always seen these paint nights advertised but never actually attended one. I was hoping we ended up with a really cool souvenir from the whole experience, not that half a million dollars wouldn’t be a good enough souvenir, of course. When I got downstairs, Ryan was waiting, smiling up at me with his arm out. I nodded at his jeans and fancy new button up, and with a smile, took his arm.
We took the car to the restaurant and were greeted with more people than I could keep straight. Apparently, the teasers for the show was already airing, and we weren’t strangers to the public anymore. Dinner was good, and the class was a lot of fun, but Ryan was still not talking very much. I knew it was his personality, he had said it over and over again, but it
was bothering me a bit. I wanted him to open up, to let loose just a little and share an experience with me instead of just beside me. Unfortunately, I was also pretty sure he had no idea how to do that.
After a while, and about three drinks into it, Ryan finally started to loosen up a little bit. He was making jokes about his terrible art skills, laughing with the instructor and smiling over at me as if we were actually on a real date. It was a lot of fun, and I found myself hoping that the night would keep going. When we were done with our paintings I held mine up first, and it was pretty good. It looked almost identical to the landscape that the teacher had painted. Everyone clapped, and Ryan looked over at me and nodded his head in approval. When it was his turn, he cleared his throat and stood up.
“This is my masterpiece,” he said, turning it around. “I call it Experiences.”
I shook my head and immediately began to laugh. On it was a stick figure wearing the same blue suit Evelyn had been wearing earlier that day. Beside her strangely wild and curly hair was a dialogue bubble that read, “Loosen up.” Everyone clapped but no one really understood it but me. He walked over and sat down next to me, bumping me with his shoulder. He was a bit drunk, I could tell.
“Sooo,” he whispered, “you think tonight is the night we seal the deal on this one?”
He wiggled his eyebrows up and down, and though it made me want to laugh, I felt annoyed by it as well.
“I’m not really sure I know what you’re talking about,” I said, looking away.
“Don’t you play hard to get,” he said, walking his fingers up my shoulder. “You know what I’m talkin’ about, little lady.”
I brushed his hand off my shoulder and sat firmly in my chair with my legs crossed under the table.
“We barely just met each other,” I said. “I am not the girl who just goes jumping into bed with a man that I only met three days before.”
“You sleep in the bed with me every night,” he said.
“You know what I mean,” I snapped, quietly looking at him with authority.
He huffed and pouted, turning his head away from me. I pulled my lips together trying not to laugh at him. He was drunk, and it was actually kind of endearing. But no matter how much I wanted to sleep with him, I was not going to give in, at least not yet. I really wasn’t the girl who just jumped into the sack with a man after such a short amount of time.
“But we’re married,” he said with a slight whine. “Married people are supposed to have sex. I’m not supposed to have to beg for it. You are my new wife, you should be all over this like — like — well I can’t think of analogy that isn’t weird, but come on.”
“You are acting like a child,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m sorry, not yet.”
“So, you’re saying there’s a chance in the future?” He looked at me and wiggled his eyebrows up and down again. “Huh?”
I took a deep breath and rolled my eyes, looking away. He was starting to push me, and it irritated me all over again. We were both there for the money, not the romance. I wanted a better life for me and my mother, and he wanted to open up more shops, giving him a better life. Neither of us walked into the situation looking for anything other than to just make it through. The conversations were nice, I had to admit that, and there was definitely a connection between the two of us, but I had to keep reminding myself of the cold hard truth. Six months from now, we would part ways and never see each other again. Thinking any other way was dangerous.
I looked down as he put his hand on my knee and started to rub my leg. At first it felt good, too good, his hands warm against my thigh. At first, I had to fight with myself because all I wanted was for him to go higher and higher. Then, with the feeling of my heart fluttering in my stomach, I came to my senses and pushed his hand away. It felt right, and that was a seriously big problem for me because I knew that he didn’t feel the same way, and never would. It was just a game to him, something to pass the time while he waited out the money. I couldn’t afford to be naïve about that. The whole thing was ridiculous as it was, and I could at least attempt to keep some of my dignity through it. I cleared my throat and stood up, looking back at him.
“You ready to go home?”
“Yep,” he grumped.
He was quiet for the entire ride back to the house, except for an occasional dramatic sigh. I didn’t know whether to be irritated or to find it hilarious, but I did know that I did not trust myself enough to go to bed with him that night. I had barely forced myself to push his hand off my leg while we were surrounded by people and a camera. I knew if he came on to me in the bed, all alone, I might not be able to resist.
So, in order to remedy all of it, when we got home, I grabbed some pajamas and headed off to the guest room to sleep. He didn’t say a word to me about it though, and just watched me walk out of the room with a shocked face. Once inside, I closed and locked the door, then changed and crawled into the bed. Even though it had only been a few nights, it felt weird to sleep in the bed alone. It was definitely for the best, though, the thumping between my legs told me that.
CHAPTER 9
Ryan
I wasn’t in the mood or the mindset to deal with Evelyn that morning, but I didn’t have a choice. Hangover or not, she was standing downstairs with Mira waiting on me to get my shit together. The night before had been fun until Mira got mad at me for putting the moves on her. I didn’t get it, though. It was obvious that she wanted me, and that we had some serious chemistry, but she kept pushing me off. I still couldn’t believe she actually slept in a different bedroom, and I’d heard her lock the door like I was some creeper. It annoyed me, and I had just given into my drunk stubbornness and passed out on the bed, fully clothed. Needless to say, when the alarm went off the next morning, I was not pleased.
I looked at my face in the mirror, running my hand over the stubble on my chin. Clearly, I needed to shave, but there was no time, they had already sent someone up three times to check on me. Shaking my head, I walked out of the room, hearing Evelyn’s distinctive voice as soon as I started down the stairs. For some reason it was like nails on a chalkboard and made me want to walk out the front door and just keep going. But I didn’t, I couldn’t, there was something about Mira that made me want to stick it out.
“Ah, good,” Evelyn said, as I entered the room.
I nodded and sat down at the table where Harrison was putting together his camera stuff for the day. He nodded at me as I sat and yawned big, not at all ready for this lecture. She walked to the center of the room, palms pressed together, a gleam in her eyes.
“Last night was — absolutely perfect,” she beamed. “There was cuteness, there was drama, even tension. It is exactly what I am looking for, and exactly what your viewers are looking for as well. The ratings are going to be great which is good for you and for this show. You two did fantastic, please keep up the good work.”
Good work? All we had done was go out, get drunk and act like ourselves. There was no pushing the issue, we were at an impasse and it kind of irritated me that our struggle made for good TV. As I watched Evelyn loudly blather on about the viewers, I couldn’t help but think that she was completely batshit crazy. The job had tipped her over the edge, and she had finally lost her damn mind. She was like Miss Frizzle on The Magic School Bus, only even crazier and with nothing interesting to say.
“I’m starting to think she injects adrenaline in the morning,” Harrison grumbled. “Straight into her fucking brain.”
“Right?!” I whispered shaking my head.
I could tell Harrison was a lot like me, older, but definitely a man of few words. He was serious enough about his job, but at the same time, I could tell he thought the whole thing was just as ridiculous as I did. He understood I was being myself, and that asking me to liven up and get crazy would be the opposite of ‘just being myself.’ It was a good thing I had him around, I really didn’t want to be the odd man out the entire time I was there. At least there was a bit of solidarity in
the whole thing.
“So, until tomorrow, when you do your grocery shopping task, I want you to relax, be yourselves, have fun and smile a little bit, damn it.” Evelyn continued, with an overly enthusiastic attempt at sarcasm. “Otherwise, I might as well just put on the Yule Log show.”
I mustered up a fake smile and nodded my head, not at all excited about trying to figure out what to do that day that would ‘entertain the masses.’ I just wanted to chill, watch some TV and check up on the business I had left behind. Maybe I could even catch up on some sleep. That wasn’t in the cards though, so I just had to come to terms with the fact that this show was a twenty-four seven job.
“I’ll see you two soon,” she said, gathering her things and scurrying out of the room.
I rolled my eyes, feeling the exhaustion the woman brought over me. She was too much to handle, even for me. While Mira was super chatty all the time, Evelyn was a freaking control freak who wanted emotion and drama. I wasn’t really sure which one was worse. I looked over at Harrison who sighed and nodded at me as he picked up his gear and headed over to the camera. It was nice to have someone who might just get it, even if they were behind the camera.
Standing up, I walked into the living room, noticing Mira disappear down the hall. I pulled my phone out and called Miles, needing some backup on the shit that was going on in my head.
“Hey,” Miles said, “how is married life?”
“Funny,” I scoffed. “I’m not really sure. We don’t act like we’re married at all.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” he laughed. “Do you mean like holding hands or do you mean like, you haven’t stuck it in?”
“Dude,” I groaned, leaning my head back and rolling my eyes. “She isn’t having it, not in the least. I’ve tried the sweet guy, I’ve tried the funny guy, and then the drunk guy and still nothing. She slept in a different room last night.”
