Enthralled: A Box Set

by Pamela Ann

  He didn’t give me a chance to respond before ending the call. It was a good thing since I had none. None to voice out loud, anyway.

  How could he just state he loved me like it was the most natural thing in the world? How?

  Like every encounter I’d had with him, I was left reeling and slept not a wink.

  I couldn’t love him still … or I would be doomed forever.

  Chapter Eight

  For the next week, I was consumed with reading scripts and wondering which one would be best to audition for. It was the greatest of distractions, and I couldn’t be more grateful for it.

  Parker and I seemed to have a silent agreement not to press the tense underlying current between us. We simply carried on as if we were perfectly fine, and for the time being, it suited me well. Now he was coming over tonight, and I was making dinner. This would be the first time I had seen him in a week since he had a tight schedule. He was set to leave for New York in two days.

  I made Ina Garten’s penne alla vecchia bettola with a simple garden salad and filet mignon medallions. It wasn’t difficult to follow through, and it was one of my favorite go-to menus for guests. This was also my first time cooking for Parker, and I was a little hyped to hear his feedback. He was a major foodie and loved to dine at Michelin star restaurants. God knew mine couldn’t compare but it was still beyond delicious. I just hoped he saw the effort I put into it.

  He arrived on my doorstep at exactly six-thirty with a bottle of wine in hand.

  “What’s for dinner?” He took a whiff before he beamed and wrapped his arms around my waist. “You cooked? Oh, baby, that’s amazing of you.” Kissing my cheek, he then spun me around to face him. “I’m sure you already know I’m a picky eater, so don’t get too offended if I don’t like something,” he warned before leaving a chaste kiss on my lips.

  His facial expression had gone from soft to a cocky smirk, which irritated the hell out of me. The idiot couldn’t simply enjoy the fact that I had painstakingly catered to him.

  “Gee, thanks for the heads-up.” Why did I even bother? Regardless, it was too late to shove this idea down.

  “All I did was warn you. I don’t want to end our night arguing again, so don’t get annoyed with me, Cara.”

  If only I was annoyed. I was something all right, but annoyance wasn’t it. And for fuck’s sake, couldn’t we just enjoy something without him dampening our time together with some unruly comment? I got it that he was high maintenance; there was no arguing about that.

  Instead of focusing on the negative vibe he gave off, I tried my damnedest to concentrate on making the table and placing the food in their serving dishes.

  “So, any news on the auditions front? Liked, any scripts?” Parker tried small talk, to which I replied a curt “some” and carried on with setting the table while he busied himself by opening the bottle of Malbec he brought.

  We dined in uncomfortable ambiance. Every topic he dwelled on were mostly about him, and I needed not bother replying. It was one of those moments when he got so enthralled talking about himself that it was to the point of nausea. He wasn’t normally so self-absorbed, but when he did, it could go on for quite a while.

  “This is surprisingly good,” he paid me a compliment, half an hour too late.

  “I’m flattered,” I commented sarcastically.

  He made a shocking statement after he had criticized that I didn’t use organic ingredients. God help the normal folks who didn’t shop at Whole Foods. It was an appalling crime apparently, according to Mister Hollywood here.

  “I have to get up early to meet my trainer at Runyon Canyon tomorrow for a hike. I had to book months ahead, but he’s the best, so I can’t complain. Why don’t you join me?” He offered an olive branch. “With your healthy appetite, you need to keep it in check. They look at your figure, too, when you audition. Keep that in mind.”

  And he just had to keep yapping. Typical Parker.

  Keep my figure in check, he said? No, fuck you very much. I wasn’t fat, though I wasn’t claiming to be in the greatest shape of my life, and I definitely didn’t need those derogatory words.

  “I’m fine,” I bitingly snapped back. “Enjoy your hike.” Taking a hard stance, I had another helping of pasta.

  “Don’t take offense. I’m only concerned for you because, if you don’t watch out, your thighs will get bigger the more waffles you shove in your mouth. Let’s be honest, you eat those bastards on a weekly basis.”

  He shouldn’t be provoking me when I was holding a steak knife.

  “Back off, asshat. You sure aren’t Jenny Craig, so shut it or I’ll stab you with a fork.” I was never a violent person, but seriously, Parker had the tendency to bring this side of me out. It was frightening. However, not only did he just insult my body, he had hijacked my appetite, too. Damn him.

  Unceremoniously getting up from my chair, I plucked my wine glass from the table and strode over to my balcony, hoping to God that watching the sunset would calm me. At this point, I was ready to call it quits. Maybe it was for the best. I barely knew the man, so it wasn’t my fault when he turned out to be Mister Asshat.

  “Relax, okay. Sheesh, it’s not that serious. I’m sorry you didn’t like me prying in your business. I just want you to be in the best shape of your life. I meant well, babes.”

  I was beyond persuasion.

  “Whatever,” I muttered without looking back at him.

  This was my home. My safe haven, and he just managed to taint that. Maybe it seemed like a minor thing, and I might be overreacting, but his insults went deeper. It scraped into those scarred tissues that had healed, but those I had never emotionally recovered from. So no, he would never understand how one reckless comment could affect me.

  “So, I guess sex is out of the question tonight?” he begrudgingly asked, evidently exasperated.

  That made me see red.

  I should throw the wine in his face. That would spell out a big screw you, fucker.

  Turning around to face him, I wanted to stomp on his balls. “Fuck to the yes.”

  Parker looked perplexed at my reaction. What had he expected? That I would welcome him with open arms? Ugh. I couldn’t believe he expected sex? After those hurtful comments? Did he expect these glorious thick thighs to open up to entertain him? Ha. He could think again.

  “I’m going to leave now, I don’t want this to escalate further,” he said, looking nervous all of a sudden, which was so unlike him. “I’m going to try to see you before I fly out, if you’ll let me.” He took a few steps toward me then halted. “Goodnight, babes.”

  His eyes told me that he wanted to kiss me, but had decided against it, leaving with a mere nod from me.

  At this point, I wasn’t furious anymore. More like indifferent. I realized that I didn’t want to be stuck in this shell of a relationship. It was a good thing I had discovered the vast differences we had. The question now was: when was the right time to end it with him? I could have done it moments ago, but Parker seemed to have sensed that.

  The clarity of what I intend to do next made me feel as though the clouds had been lifted and all the confusion immediately vanished. I was ready for the next chapter, and even though I would be single and back on the dating market, that didn’t mean I would go back to River. No, that certainly wasn’t the plan.

  //

  Today was the third day this week I was prepping for an Indie movie audition. Those were the only scripts available, and I didn’t mind that they were Indies since I believed it was a good platform to show off my craft without needing to worry about other things, like a bigger production film could have. Consequently, a lot of actors made it their launching pads to get better movie roles.

  So, here I was, ready for that next stepping stone, dressed in all black.

  I was on my way out when Kells called to ask if I wanted to meet for lunch later today.

  “Sure. Same spot?” I hurriedly muttered as I stepped out of my door before I pulled out m
y keys to secure it.

  “Same spot. Text me when you’re done. I’ll meet you there, yeah? And oh, best of luck to you, Sprinkles.”

  She used Anton’s moniker for me. That warmed my heart.

  “Will do. Thank you mucho.” I beamed as I strode down the hallway, primed for an hour of a grueling audition. Addison had assured me that they were impressed with my performance in Clover as Janet Samuels, the sister of the main character who also happened to be his confidante, who was also notoriously sharp and did most of the negotiations behind his back to get the essential contracts to secure the deal for their family business empire. She was the backbone of the family amidst the scandals her brother was involved in. Their other destructive sister was bent on sabotaging anything their parents built.

  I had no qualms portraying a strong character. In fact, I blossom in them. I was in my element. It’s the greatest feat to feel such profound connection to a character. For a newcomer like myself, it would be a great honor to get this role.

  As expected, it took a little over an hour. I was calm and composed, ready to take on the role they had intended me to depict. And suffice it to say, I believed I nailed it nicely.

  On my way out, I informed Addison how it all went, and she was confident that we would be getting a call for a second read-through. Afterward, I sent a quick message to Kells, telling her I was on my way.

  We met in République on south La Brea, one of our favorite places to lunch. They had an eclectic menu from classic French cuisine to Asian dishes with a French twist. The flavors were bold and savory to the point of nirvana. The execution, undeniably sublime. And yes, we couldn’t get enough.

  “I’ve got news. I just got this gig to be the main makeup artist for this huge band.” She was literally jumping up and down as we ordered our dishes at the counter. With her lethal looks, it was quite a reaction coming from her. She resembled Eva Green, smoking hot but could cut a person with a mere look. The combination was potent.

  I murmured my thanks while I finished paying the cashier before diverting my attention back to my overjoyed friend. “That’s amazing. Congrats, Kells. What band?” She worked with tons of artists before, but she had never reacted with such zeal.

  Walking toward our table, we took our seats before she responded. “It’s The Cold Conflict. They’re British. Do you happen to like them?” Kells reached out for the bread and broke a piece before abundantly buttering it with gusto.

  Hell to the yeah. It was no wonder she reacted with such fervor.

  “They played at Coachella this year, but I couldn’t make it.” Subtlety was best in such circumstances. Fangirling was a major no-no. One could be doing cartwheels in one’s mind, but on the outer surface, you displayed nonchalance and boredom. It was how the game was played.

  “You should come with. I’d love to have you around for moral support. Not to mention, I’m sure you’d have fun just watching how things are on set,” she carried on, devouring the bread. The poor woman was starved for food. Her hours were insanely hectic, so it was no wonder she had skipped a few meals before this one. It was her norm.

  “Are you sure I wouldn’t be a nuisance? You’d be busy, and I don’t want to be a bother.” I would love to go since I had never been in one, but I didn’t want to interfere. I could just imagine the chaos behind the scenes for music videos.

  Besides, I thought of meeting Will, the front man of the band. It made me tizzy with excitement. I had a serious thing about men who could carry a ballad and who looked sinful with a guitar in their hands. Musicians were the best kinds of lovers. I could attest to that.

  “I want you to come, Cara. Anton’s tagging along, too, so you’ve got no choice on this one. You’re coming with,” Kells persisted, shaking her head.

  Like I could argue when she used one of her “it’s my way or the highway” voice. I wouldn’t dare.

  “Okay, just let me know when, and I’ll be there.” My last audition wrapped up today, and if I didn’t get casted, my schedule would be wide open for the next few months until Clover began shooting the next season.

  “How’s Parker in New York? Miss him already?” she inquired as she checked her phone, missing the odd expression playing on my face.

  “He just left, so no, I don’t miss him yet.” And I doubt I would.

  Parker tried to see me hours before his departure, but I had dodged him. I didn’t have the capacity to go through such emotional turmoil. It wasn’t about being a coward. It was due to the fact that my brain was too exhausted from memorizing lines. In my right time, I would permanently cut ties with him. For now, I needed to focus on work.

  “When do you plan on visiting him?”

  “We haven’t really discussed it yet. We will see how my auditions go. If I don’t get a call back, I don’t really mind. I’m sure I can fill my time with something before shooting starts for the show.”

  “Positive thoughts. You never know where your fate takes you. Life’s short, so give it your best shot and don’t waste it by thinking about what ifs. That’s what I tell myself, anyway, you know, when things go to the shitters, but it might work for you, too,” she encouraged.

  God only knew what drama she had been put through. Kells had her own demons to slay, and the only way she got through it was by having a good head on her shoulder. She was made of stronger stuff, and I had always admired her spunk. I admired her tenacity. I wish I could be a badass like that someday, I would rule life like a champ.

  The “what ifs” fucked me until I was on my knees praying for the nightmare to end. No, never again. I had learned that placing your entire heart and trust into someone was a heedless investment. The only person to trust was yourself. And you should never discount your instincts. They were instilled for a reason, and that reason was to run for the hills if it’s telling you to.

  “Thank you for the great advice, yogi master,” I murmured with a smile before drinking a sip of my diet Coke. She could be so serious at times that I couldn’t help teasing her.

  She snorted before picking a piece of cherry tomato off my dish. “Seriously, you gotta go to yoga with me. I promise it’ll stretch out your kinks. I’m sure you have loads of those.” She winked at me cheekily.

  If Parker had worded it that way and not in the most condescending way possible, we probably would have avoided the fight. But the man was crass and couldn’t care less if he hurt my feelings.

  “Now that I’m jobless for some time, count me in.” With three months of vacancy, I needed something to do apart from dishing food in my mouth and binge watching Netflix. I needed a hobby, something productive.

  “We gotta go out and celebrate my new gig tonight,” Kells said, breaking through my thoughts.

  Celebrate life. There was so much I was grateful for.

  “Of course. Have anywhere in mind?”

  “The Nice Guy for din-din. Then we can go dancing somewhere afterward. I’ll have everything sorted out by tonight.” With her connections in the industry, she had no problems getting us access anywhere.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Here’s to single ladies.” She raised her cup of coffee, grinning like a mad woman.

  Raising my half-filled diet Coke, I wasn’t one, but I toasted, anyway. What was the point in arguing? I was already planning on breaking up with Parker. I had the inkling to call him and cut it off right then and there, but where was the sensitivity to that?

  Though our relationship was barely a month old, he still earned a respectable good-bye. No man or woman appreciated to be broken up over a phone call, text message, or an email, no matter the longevity of the relationship. I was not a cold-hearted bitch, thank you very much.

  So why did you leave and walk out of River’s life without saying a word? my mind countered, unsettling me. I loathed it when my conscience popped out of nowhere.

  “I have a cleaning appointment in an hour and half. Wanna tag along?”

  We were just about done eating, and I couldn’t h
elp taking note that there was a sheepish feeling when she stated “cleaning appointment.” It sounded tricky.

  “What kind of cleaning are we talking about here? Dental? Pedicures?” Pedicures were cleaning in some way, weren’t they?

  “Oh, you know, the usual.” She waved her hand like it wasn’t a big deal before she was distracted with a business call.

  While she busied herself, I was making hand signals and trying to mouth the words that I wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t having it. She basically dragged me toward her car, leaving mine with the valet while she took us to our next destination.

  I hadn’t really minded. Well, up until I found out it was not the “usual kind” as she had assured me. I was sure a colon hydrotherapy wasn’t the norm, not even for me. Talk about taking this friendship to another level.

  “Does your friend want to try it as well?” the kind technician asked Kells.

  My ears turned crimson. I vehemently shook my head in protest. Hell no. I was beyond terrified.

  Kells turned toward me. “Can I sign you up for this? Please. I’ll pay and everything. Do this for me please, Sprinkles?” she pleaded, hands bunched together.

  I was sure I looked like a deer caught in the headlights. I was being put on the spot while the turd technician patiently waited for us to figure it out. Kells wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  This woman was surely nuts. How did I become friends with her again? Right now, I couldn’t recall.

  “Give us a moment please.” Yanking Kells, I took her to the side, ready to reason. “Kells, this isn’t my thing, you know that. I’m not into trendy shit like this. Like, for real dude, what the hell? I can’t. The very thought of it terrifies the living daylights out of me.” The idea of inserting some plastic tubing in my sacred rectum wasn’t what I envisaged for my afternoon. Talk about total violation.

  “It’s not that big a deal. People everywhere do it. Hell, do you have any idea how many business transactions are being done while they’re getting their shit vacuumed?”