by J. C. Grant
My heart leapt into my throat as I saw a flash of yellow, red, and black slithering inside. My heart stilled, then raced. I couldn’t move fast enough; my body felt weightless and heavy as lead all at once. My hands shook as I grabbed Chance’s collar, yanking him inside, slamming the door shut behind me.
What the holy fuck?
“Fergus!” I yelled, my voice shaky.
David
Just as Daniel pulled up to the stadium, my phone rang.
When the call connected, I heard Fergus say, “Sorry to call you.”
Things had been a little tense between us since our little chat about him covering for her with the shrink. It was obvious they’d become friends and that pissed me off. He was taking my spot, and I wanted it to stop.
“What's going on?” I asked, taking in the crowd of fans gathering just outside the team entrance. A tiny part of me hoped Austin would ignore her meeting and show up anyway, I realized as I scanned the crowd in vain.
“I just wanted to make sure that you knew Austin is leaving.”
It took a minute for his words to sink in.
“What do you mean ‘Austin is leaving’?” I asked staring out the windshield, seeing nothing as my mind searched for explanations.
“She's packing right now. I didn't know if you two had a fight...”
“No, everything was fine when I left,” I responded, confused by his words. We were fine, or so I thought. “Where's she going?”
“She hasn't said. Just saw her go upstairs and come back down with two pieces of luggage. I can hear her going through the closet like a wild animal. She hasn't actually mentioned she's leaving. I just know she's packing.”
“What the fuck?” I muttered, confused and admittedly a little scared. Afraid I left her alone too soon. “Let me call her.”
Ending the call, I immediately dialed my wife. After three rings, her voicemail picked up. I hung up, racking my brain, trying to figure out what could've happened to set her off. I knew my wife was unpredictable. I knew she had a bad temper, but I couldn't think of anything that would've caused her to start packing.
No matter how mad she'd been before, she'd never even threatened to leave. She might've thought about it, but she never vocalized it.
Calling her again, I got the same results.
Voicemail.
“Fergus called me, said you're packing. Call me and let me know what's going on,” I said calmly, forcing myself not to react, not to give in to the growing panic.
I hit end, and called Fergus back.
“She's not answering,” I said as soon as he picked up.
“I'll try to talk to her, but she hasn't come out of the bedroom yet.”
“Just follow her... wherever she goes.” This was hitting my abandonment issues hard, but I couldn't give in to that crippling fear.
“Of course. I was just letting you know what was going on. And kind of hoping you could tell me why it was going on, but I'll find out for you.” He seemed slightly annoyed.
“Thanks,” I ended the call and climbed out of the truck.
I didn't want Fergus to find out for me. I didn’t want them having deep and meaningful conversations. What I wanted was Austin to call me and give me a completely rational—fuck that. I'd be fucking thrilled with some batshit, crazy-ass, irrational explanation. Anything that wasn't “I'm leaving you.”
Staying in the locker room, I waited for a return call from Austin that never came. Finally, taking my phone with me, I forced myself to go out onto the field, forcing myself to function through the growing fear.
Austin
Still shaking, my stomach still in knots, I grabbed my bag and headed for the garage, Chance right behind me. I didn't waste any time climbing in my car and getting out of there. I hadn't seen Fergus all morning, but as I looked in the rearview mirror he was right behind me.
Who the fuck would send me a snake?
The entire drive back to my house, back to Silver Lake, Fergus never called, neither did David. I knew David had called while I was packing, but I didn't want to waste time talking on the phone, and I didn’t want to worry him—distract him from what he needed to do.
I’d done enough of that for one week.
Seconds after, I pulled into my driveway and stepped out of my car. Fergus was pulling in behind me.
As I opened the back door to let Chance out, Fergus exited his car, wearing his signature black suit and crisp white shirt, and calmly stated, “You have to stop doing this.”
“What?” I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.
“Running away from him whenever he tries to help you.”
“What the fuck? You didn't hear me scream?” I asked in disbelief. “There's a giant fucking snake on the porch.” My fear renewed as I spoke. “It'd be different if David was here, I'd feel a little bit better, but I'm not staying in that house.” I paused, taking a deep breath. “I'll call David in a minute. I just want to get my stuff in the house and get settled and know that I am in a snake-free zone.”
“Yes, he told me about your snake phobia.” .
“Snake phobia?” I repeated in disbelief, offended that David thought of it like that. “Fucking stupid men,” I stumbled out, unable to come up with a better comeback. At that moment, I was more than happy to let him think that was all it was, let him think it was some silly girl thing.
I needed to time it right, to make sure Fergus wouldn’t go blabbing to David as soon as I told him what actually happened.
Fergus grabbed my bag out of my trunk before I could. “I got this. Go ahead and go inside,” he said, like you would talk to a small child, as if my fear was absurd, as if this whole thing was ridiculous, almost like he was mocking me.
I bet his attitude changes when he finds out it was delivered—to the door.
Giving him a “fuck you” look, I turned, taking Chance into the house.
The house felt stale, having no one in it for the past four months. I turned on the air conditioner, then headed for the kitchen, grabbing cleaner and a roll of paper towels. After giving the kitchen a light cleaning, and gathering my thoughts, I started some coffee. Once I was settled in the living room with my coffee and feeling a little calmer, I called David back. He picked up on the first ring.
“Austin, what's going on,” he demanded, his tone was a combination of angry, pleading, and a tiny bit scared.
“There's a giant snake on the porch.”
There was a brief moment of silence. “Oh fuck, I'm sorry.” He sounded like he’d done something wrong, like he was asking forgiveness. “I'll have someone out there today to check the property.”
“David, I'm fine. I can handle this on my own. Just tell me who to call,” I tried to ease his concern.
“You can't handle the snake thing on your own. No offense, but your history regarding snakes on the property would say otherwise.”
“Oh yeah, my snake phobia?” I asked sarcastically.
“Yeah.” His tone was matter-of-fact.
“Fine, whatever,” I mumbled.
“Big fight you put up there.” The grin in his voice was obvious.
I tried not to laugh, but I couldn't stop the growing smile on my face.
After a moment, he sighed heavily.
“Okay.” He sounded more relaxed, as if whatever had been bothering him was suddenly resolved. “So we're fine? You'll probably be pissed at me about the snake thing, but that's the only reason you got up and left?”
“Yes, I'm not living in a snake baby house or... any kind of a snake house.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I got that. You know, all you had to do was let Chance go out there and take care of it for ya. He handled the last one just fine.”
“Not funny, David. That's disgusting.”
“All right, fair enough, that was a bad joke. I'll figure out something about getting out of tomorrow’s game—”
“Babe, no. You don't have to.”
“Shut up. I'm going to take care of
you. Don't get too comfortable there. We're not staying there for more than two days.”
“David—”
“Serious, Austin. I'll make sure there's no snakes on the property, but you are not moving back to your house.”
“I just packed a few bags—”
“Austin, this is not up for discussion,” he cut me off, his tone demanding and hard, making my core pulse.
“Fine,” I relented not wanting to argue with him. Mostly because my body had shifted gears into arousal. But also because I understood where he was coming from. He didn’t want us taking any steps backward, creating more distance, separation. It was sexy how much he wanted me, us.
“I love you, sweetheart.” The sincerity in his voice made my eyes sting.
It hit me then. Fergus called him before I did. And probably made David more worried, wondering what had happened, what caused me to leave. Immediately, I felt horrible for waiting to call him back. He must've been drowning in those abandonment issues of his.
“I love you. So much. I didn't mean to worry you.”
“As long as we're okay, it doesn't matter.”
“See you soon.” Ending the call, I looked at Fergus accusingly. “You just had to call him before I did, didn't you?”
“It's my job. You know that.” His tone was matter-of-fact.
That got my back up. I knew it was his job, but for some reason, I thought we had some level of friendship. Trust.
“Why didn't you just ask me? Or call me on the way over here, instead of letting him worry for no reason?”
“I called him when I saw you packing.”
“Are you kidding?” I breathed, stunned that he wouldn’t talk to me first. “You let him worry that whole time?”
“It was something he'd want to know.” Fergus’ tone was distant, unconcerned.
“Is there going to be some point in time when you stop telling on me?” I asked sarcastically.
I felt humiliated.
I’d thought we’d grown closer.
Clearly, I was delusional.
Fergus was emotionless as ever. “That's up to David, not me.”
“Serious bullshit,” I muttered under my breath.
Opening the patio doors, I pulled over one of my oversized dining room chairs and finished my coffee in silence while Chance ran around my backyard.
Despite my disappointment with Fergus, I needed to tell him what had actually happened. It was his job, after all. Fergus' voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Yes, I'll meet them there. Do you want me to leave Austin here alone?”
If he was talking to anyone but David, I would be seriously pissed. It still annoyed me how he talked about me as if I wasn't sitting right there in the room with him.
Pretty sure I'm capable of staying in my house by myself for a few hours without starting an apocalypse.
“It's not an apocalypse were worried about,” Fergus said suddenly.
Apparently, I said that out loud. I hated that I did that; it was annoying and embarrassing.
Looking over my shoulder at him I sassed, “Tell David to go work... or play his game, and leave me alone.”
“David's making sure you're taken care of so you can stay in your home without being terrified.”
Shocked by Fergus' rebuff, even more shocked that he did it with David on the phone, I turned around facing the patio doors, unwilling to let him see how much it bothered me.
I could feel my anger growing as I watched Chance sniffing around the yard. But instead of lashing out, I wanted to cry. I’d been joking. It was something I said to David on several occasions. David knew I was joking, and Fergus didn’t have any business telling me how to talk to David.
Getting upset over such a small thing was proof I wasn’t okay, I was still raw and open from the screen tests.
Moments later, Fergus stood next to me.
“I'm heading back over to your house in a couple hours to make sure the property is clear of snakes.” I didn't look at him. I just nodded. He continued, “And if it makes you feel any better... he's angry that I spoke to you like that.”
It did make me feel better, but I wasn't about to let him know that.
“He says you were joking.”
It sounded like a question, but I didn’t respond.
“Is there anything that you need to do today, errands you need to run, places you need to go?” he inquired softly.
“I have a lunch meeting today that David set up. We're going to meet at the Polo Lounge.” Then I remembered. “Oh. Well, I have an appointment with the therapist. It—I think I'm going to cancel it.”
“You might want to double check. I think David already canceled it. Check your voicemails,” he added as he stood, going to the kitchen to get coffee.
Reluctantly, I checked my voicemail and found that David had canceled my therapist appointment.
Without looking at him, I called out, “Hey, Fergus. That snake was delivered.”
Suddenly, I had his full attention.
“What?” He approached me.
“I thought it was some clothes I ordered. It wasn't. Please, don't tell David. I don't want him stressed.” I looked up at him, standing above me.
“I’m going to have to tell him.”
“I know, just later, after he’s finished,” I implored.
He held my gaze for a long moment. He seemed to soften fractionally and nodded.
“Text me when you’re done with your lunch?”
When I gave him a slight nod, he left, locking the door behind him.
I couldn’t imagine who the snake was from.
Was it just some weird mix-up?
I didn’t think so, but I didn’t have time for the extra stress. I needed to focus on my lunch meeting.
While finishing my coffee, I forced myself to shake off the events of the morning, convincing myself it was a mistake, a freak accident.
Then I started getting ready.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Two hours later, after I’d made sure Chance had everything he needed, I grabbed my purse and checked myself over again in the mirror by the front door. I’d chosen my favorite ripped boyfriend jeans, a gray deep V-neck tee, and my nude Valentino Rockstud sandals. Once I was sure I was ready for public consumption, I headed out to meet David’s choice.
David had finally told me who it was. I was still a little in disbelief that he was interested in doing my show.
When I pulled up to the valet and stepped out of the car, I realized I was nervous. I couldn't put my finger on why. Sure, he was the biggest action star at the moment and the hottest guy in Hollywood—not counting David. But I still couldn't figure out why David was so open to this. It felt like a trick.
Making my way through the lobby back to the restaurant, I couldn't help but wonder, Why is David okay with this guy?
I mean, sure, he looked a little like David, but...
“Hi, can I help you?” the hostess greeted me.
“Yes, I'm here to meet Alec James.”
“Oh, yes. He called. He's running a little late. I'll go ahead and seat you.”
Following her back to the table, I began to feel uncomfortable.
Maybe he's planning on canceling.
That possibility should’ve been a relief.
It was anything but.
Once seated at the oversized curved booth, I ordered an espresso and waited, feeling stupid all the while. I'd never had to wait on anyone before. I briefly wondered if this was anything like what women felt when they were stood up or had blind dates—which this kinda was.
Bored and not knowing what else to do with myself, I fished my phone out of my purse. I found a miss text from him.
Alec: I'm so sorry. I'm running 10 minutes late.
Please sit down, order something to drink.
Don't worry. I'll be there soon.
2:10 PM
That made me feel a little bit better. Only a little.
Needing to busy myse
lf, I texted David.
Austin: I'm here waiting on your guy. He's
running late. At the risk of not sounding like
an independent woman, I miss you and wish
you were here.
2:12 PM
David: You're always an independent woman.
But you're still my woman. And I bet you don't
miss me half as much as I miss you. Let me
know how the meeting goes. I love your
fucking ass.
2:14 PM
His words sent a burst of warmth and confidence through me. David always knew exactly what to say.
I love your fucking ass.
For me, that was more romantic than any Prince Charming crap could ever be. Real. Honest. Sexy.
“Hey, sorry I'm late,” a deep, rich voice interrupted my swoon.
Looking up, I took in the man before me.
He was even more gorgeous—more rugged—than he appeared on screen. He was built like David, but a bit leaner, dark brown hair almost black, the deepest brown eyes I'd ever seen. Olive skin and full lips.
“Yeah, sure no problem,” I muttered as he sat down.
I couldn't stop watching him, his jaw, his lips, his eyes. Alec could pass for David’s brother, if not his twin. It was freaky. And I realized in that moment how much David loved me, because watching me have sex scenes with this man was going to rip him in two.
It would've gutted me if the roles were reversed.
“I'm so glad David called me. I've been wanting to do TV for a while.”
“Really?” I asked, genuinely curious if he was just doing David a favor.
“I’ve been wanting to try something different. David said this was kind of a rotating role, ten shows one season, six another.”
“Yeah.” I paused, not sure how to ask, but I decided to handle him the same way I did David, honest and blunt. “So, I don't really know what we're supposed to be doing here. Are we like interviewing each other or…?”
