I don’t think she’ll believe we conveniently broke up right this second, I sent back.
Okay. So you need a pretend boyfriend whose name starts with J? Someone who will be available at the last minute.
Yes, I replied. If I call her back and cancel for any other reason, she’ll know I lied. I’m so screwed. Why do I do stuff like this?
Her next response came instantly. Well, it’s lucky you know someone starting with J who owes you…
I groaned and picked up the phone again, glancing through the file of Fourth Down contacts that I’d left sitting on the kitchen counter after returning from the studio the other day. After locating Jacob’s home number, I dialed and waited with bated breath, my heart racing.
“Hello?” A woman with a sultry eastern European accent answered, and I almost hung up, assuming it was one of Jacob’s most recent conquests. Probably some six-foot Slovenian supermodel.
“Uh, hi,” I choked out instead. “Is Jacob there? It’s Nora. From work.”
“Oh, of course. I’ll get him for you.”
Jacob came onto the line a minute later. “Hi, Nora. What’s up?”
“Who was that?” I practically screeched. I mentally slapped myself as soon as I said it. It was none of my business who Jacob entertained in his home at eight o’clock in the morning. He was just a friend, as we’d established yesterday, and I had no reason to be interrogating him like a jealous banshee.
“That was…uh…my housekeeper. Why?” he said, a note of surprise in his tone. I had a hunch he wasn’t telling the truth about the woman’s identity, but that didn’t matter right now.
“No reason. Anyway, I was just wondering if you’d do me a favor. I figured you kinda still owe me after that horrendous date you took me on.”
He chuckled. “So we’re still on that, are we?”
“Well, it was pretty bad,” I said. A small smile quirked my lips up as an idea occurred to me. “And besides, I’d be doing you a favor at the same time.”
“How so?”
“Yesterday you were saying that you thought meeting Walter Simmons could help with your portrayal of him during filming. Obviously you can’t meet him because he’s dead, but his family lives a couple of hours north of here. I was thinking we could drive up there today and meet them. I think hearing them talk about him could really help you. I’ll call them first to make sure it’s okay, of course.”
“Yeah, that does sound like it could help. Good idea,” he said. “So what do you get out of it?”
“Promise you won’t laugh at me?”
“I’ll try.”
I explained the situation concerning my parents, and I heard him stifle a laugh.
“Hey! You promised you wouldn’t laugh!” I said indignantly.
“I said I’d try,” he replied. “So… your parents conveniently live in the same area as Walter’s family, and you need me to be your fake boyfriend for the afternoon. Is that the general gist of what you’re asking me to do?”
“Um. Yes. But only because you’re the only male friend I have whose name starts with J.”
“Wow, you really take this whole friendship thing seriously. Up until yesterday you could barely stand me, and then the second we become friends, boom, you’ve got me going on road trips and meeting your family.”
I sighed. “Sorry. Don’t worry about it. It was a stupid idea.”
He laughed. “No, no, I think it’s a great idea.”
I frowned. “You do?”
“Of course. Like you said, I’ll get to meet Walter’s family beforehand, which could really help me on this movie. And then afterwards, I’ll be able to practice my acting skills with your family, seeing as I’ll be faking a relationship with you. Always good to practice.”
“You’re a lifesaver.”
“No, just doing what I can to make up for that awful date. Like you said earlier, I owe you.”
“True. I think we’ll be even after this,” I said. “Meet me here in half an hour?”
“Sure,” he replied. “Looking forward to it.”
I hated to admit it, but so was I.
12
Jacob
“The address is 5 Shafto Lane,” Nora said, looking up from her phone as we cruised into Santa Barbara. “Any idea where that is?”
“Nope, but we’ll find it,” I said. I nodded toward my GPS. “Put the address in there.”
“Right. You’d think I might know where it is, because I’m originally from here, but nope…”
I smiled as I watched her figure out the device, still almost unable to believe I was here with her. She’d masked the trip as a helpful learning experience for my portrayal of Walter Simmons, but we both knew the one and only reason she’d called me was because she needed a fake boyfriend. A guy like me would knock her parents’ socks off. After all, it wasn’t every day a girl brought a hotshot movie star home to meet her parents.
I knew it didn’t really mean anything. At the end of the day, I’d go home and return to being nothing more than a casual friend and colleague to Nora. But for now, I was her ‘boyfriend’, and I was damn well going to play the part to perfection. Any excuse to spend more time with her.
“The Simmons family is looking forward to meeting you,” Nora said once she’d worked out the GPS. “Seeing as you’re playing Walter.”
“I can imagine. I just hope I’m not a disappointment to them.”
She smiled. “I’m sure they’ll love you. Everyone else seems to.”
“Everyone except you,” I said with a grin. “Speaking of which, when are we breaking up?”
She wrinkled her forehead in confusion. “Huh?”
“Well, you’ll need to tell your parents we broke up eventually, right? Unless you plan on lying to them for all eternity.”
She sighed. “Oh, right. I don’t know. I guess we’ll break up in a couple of weeks. I’ll say you cheated on me with some extra from the Fourth Down set.”
“Hey! No, you can’t make me sound that bad.”
“Okay. I’ll just tell them I dumped you because I met an even hotter actor and wanted him instead,” she said with a sassily-raised brow.
“Are you saying there are hotter guys than me out there?” I asked, feigning an offended tone.
She gave me a devious smile and didn’t answer that particular question. Instead she pointed to a turnoff. “GPS says we need to get off here, then take the second left.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
We pulled up at a sizable white house with dark green trim a few minutes later. A tall brunette woman who looked to be around fifty or so came out to greet us, gushing effusively as she introduced herself. “Mr. Archer, wow. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Brianna, Walter’s daughter.”
“Please, call me Jacob,” I replied, grabbing her hand and shaking it. I gestured to Nora. “This is Nora Valencia.”
“Yes, we spoke on the phone earlier. Nice to meet you, Nora.”
“You too.”
Brianna looked over her shoulder and hollered at the front door. “Come on, he’s here!” she said. Then she turned back to us. “I can’t believe how much you look like Dad. When he was young, of course.”
“I think he was much better looking than me,” I replied with a wry smile. She laughed as other relatives spilled out of the house—grandchildren, nephews, nieces, even a couple of very young great-grandchildren.
They clamored around me, remarking on how I was such a good casting choice for the part of Walter. Finally Nora and I were ushered into the house, where Brianna had prepared coffee and an early lunch for us.
“It’s such a shame he was gone by the time they decided to make this film,” she said with a sigh, sitting down with us in the living room. “He would’ve felt so honored to know that they were making a movie about him.”
“Well, he deserves it,” Nora said. “His career was amazing. That comeback he made after his second spinal injury…wow. I don’t think anyone’s ever seen anything like
it.”
The family gathered around to share photos, anecdotes, and even home videos of Walter, and I eventually glanced at my watch to see that over three hours had flown by in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Getting to know the Simmons family like this was an amazing experience, and it had been a great idea for Nora to arrange this meeting. I felt like I knew the football legend quite well despite having never met him, although I still wasn’t sure what exactly I needed to change in my actual portrayal of him. I felt like there was something missing in my performances thus far, some emotional element I needed to add.
That piece of the puzzle fell into my lap fifteen minutes later when Brianna was going through another photo album filled with black and white photographs.
“That’s Charles,” she said, pointing to a middle-aged man posing next to a young Walter. “He was a bit of an enigma, wasn’t he?”
“Charles who?” I asked.
She gave me a funny look, and then she sighed. “Oh, of course. Sorry. I suppose this isn’t exactly on his Wikipedia page, is it? And it’s not something he discussed much in interviews,” she said. “Charles was my father’s father. Supposedly, anyway.”
“I thought Walter was adopted.”
She nodded. “He was, but it’s complicated. His mother was…well, you’ve heard what she was like. But the father wasn’t aware of her pregnancy, and then she left Walter to be adopted out when he was born. He never knew exactly who his father was, but this man—Charles—came and found him when he was twenty-two and told him he was quite sure he was his biological father. They had a relationship up until Charles died when Dad was around twenty-six.”
“Wow. I had no idea,” I said, eyebrows puckering.
“I guess not many people do. I think that part of his life was what inspired him to do so much with it, although a lot of people seem to think that motivation came primarily from his childhood illness.”
“Can you elaborate?” I asked. Everyone knew Walter Simmons had suffered from lung problems as a child, but I’d never heard anything about his biological family.
“Sure. His illness and later recovery motivated him, of course, but for so long he never knew who his real father was. I think because of that, he felt a strong need to be great, be an overachiever, to sort of show the man what he was missing if he was still out there somewhere. And then when he met Charles, that need was still so ingrained in him that he kept going. Also, he was never entirely sure if Charles was really his father, so I suppose that kept his drive going too.”
“Was he?” I asked. “Was Charles his father, that is?”
Brianna shrugged. “This was all before the time of DNA testing and whatnot. He never knew for sure. But Charles never asked for anything other than to see Walter every so often, and they did share the same facial features. So we think he was almost certainly his father. I suppose the only way to truly know would be to dig them both up and test them. But we wouldn’t do that.”
“Of course not. Must’ve been hard for Walter, though, never really knowing for sure.”
She nodded. “I’m sure it was, but he never really spoke about it,” she said.
“I can’t believe I’ve never heard this before,” Nora said. “I must’ve seen at least four different documentaries about Walter, and the only mention of his childhood was about him growing up here with his adoptive family. Oh, and also his early sicknesses.”
“Honestly, no one ever really asks us anything about his childhood, except about the sickness,” Brianna said. “The writers for Fourth Down certainly didn’t ask us much about him. I think they spent most of their time interviewing his old teammates and friends who are still alive.”
I turned to Nora, who looked about as surprised as I did. The only mention of Walter’s family in the movie script was his adoptive family and the childhood health issues that they’d tirelessly helped him fight. There was nothing about Charles at all. Fourth Down was mostly set in Walter’s later life, not his adolescence, so his upbringing wasn’t all that important in the grand scheme of the storyline, but still, it seemed a huge oversight on the studio’s behalf that they hadn’t discovered or mentioned anything about this.
I suppose it explained why I’d always felt like there was some sort of strange missing link in his story, though, and now I knew the truth behind his motivation to achieve great things in his life. The whole ‘childhood illness’ thing as his main incentive had always seemed so clichéd and hackneyed. Knowing the real story behind what drove Walter would aid me greatly when I played him. It would help me tap into more emotional aspects of the character that hit quite close to home for me. I’d grown up without my real father too.
I knew exactly what it was like—that relentless drive to prove myself, to prove that someone would want me, even if my father never did. To prove I was good enough, to prove I was worth something, chase away that dark sense of emptiness that always lurked in the back of my mind.
After another few minutes, Nora looked at her watch and gasped. “It’s nearly five! We’ve imposed on you for far too long, Brianna.”
“It’s been a pleasure having you here,” Brianna said, smiling as we stood up. “I can’t wait to see how the movie turns out.”
After we’d said our goodbyes and thank yous, we got back in the car and headed toward Nora’s parents’ house.
“I can’t believe how late it is,” Nora said, anxiously twisting her hair in her hands. “Although this is probably good. It means we won’t have to stay and keep up our act for too long.”
I grinned. “Don’t you think it’s wrong to lie to your mom and dad about having a boyfriend when you don’t?”
“Of course I do! I feel bad. But Mom put me on the spot, and the lie came out before I could stop it.”
“Well, I suppose it’s only a small lie in the grand scheme of things,” I said. “And I suppose they’ll be happy to see their daughter dating such a great guy.”
She snorted. “Great, huh? You’re so arrogant.”
“I’ve got the goods to back it up.”
“And the serial killer literature, apparently.”
“You’re never going to get over that, are you?” I said.
We both laughed, and then Nora’s face took on a more serious expression. “I can’t believe what Walter’s family told us back there.”
“Neither can I. I had no idea. I mean, I knew he was adopted, but I didn’t realize how much it affected him. All the write-ups and documentaries about him make it sound like he never really thought about his bio parents. And that was the first I ever heard of Charles.”
“Yeah.” Nora nodded. “I can’t even imagine what it would be like not knowing who my father was. I guess I’m really lucky. I grew up in a totally normal family with both parents. Boring and average, but it was good.”
“You’re right. You are lucky,” I said with a tight smile.
She must’ve sensed that she’d hit a nerve, because she frowned and sat up straighter. “Did I say something wrong?”
I shook my head. “No, nothing wrong. I just wish I’d grown up ‘boring and average’ like you just described.”
“You didn’t?” she asked softly.
“Not really. Similar boat to Walter, only my father never came to find me like his apparently did.”
“Shit. I’m so sorry. That must’ve been difficult.”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. Grew up in a trailer park in Riverside with my mom. My father left her when she was pregnant and she didn’t really have much money. Couldn’t work while she was pregnant, you see—too sick. Then once I was born, she had to take care of me, and not many places want to hire a young single mother.”
“That’s awful. Your poor mom,” she said. Then her eyebrows puckered. “For some reason I thought you grew up in Beverly Hills.”
I nodded again. “That’s what my Wiki page says. My agent said it would be a good idea to invent a fake backstory. Apparently people love underdog stories in movies, but not so much i
n real life. They want their celebrities to be larger than life, all glitz and glamor. Growing up in a trailer park doesn’t really scream ‘glamorous’.”
I’d never told anyone this stuff before, but Nora was just so easy to talk to. Besides, I knew she wasn’t the type to go to the media and put me on blast, letting everyone know my real history. She wasn’t like that; wasn’t the type to exploit someone else’s story for personal gain. I knew it was safe to tell her almost anything.
On top of all that, I wanted her to know me. I wanted her to know all the gritty details of my life up until now, because maybe—just maybe—she’d accept me and actually have some sort of romantic interest in me again once she’d come to know me properly.
Some things were better left unsaid for now, though. She didn’t need to know everything just yet. After all, I didn’t want to scare her off. It had been hard enough simply convincing her to be friends with me.
“That’s so unfair,” Nora said. “You shouldn’t have to lie or feel ashamed about where you came from. So what if you didn’t grow up in a mansion on the right side of town? You turned out pretty great either way.”
“So you finally admit it. I am great,” I said with a teasing smirk.
She stuck her tongue out. “Just when I think you’re acting like a human, you turn on the old Archer anti-charm again.”
I laughed. “Maybe it’s a defense mechanism. Stops people from asking me too many questions.”
“Sorry if I was asking too much.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean you,” I replied. “You can ask me anything.”
“Really?”
“Sure. Ask me something else.”
“Okay. Where’s your mom nowadays? I’m sure she must be proud of you.”
“She died a few years back,” I said, keeping my eyes on the road ahead. “Skin cancer.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.”
“I gave her the best I could while she was still alive, so at least there’s that,” I said. “She gave up her life to take care of me when I was young, and I know I’m lucky because of that. Some people never have parents who care at all. So as soon as I started making my own money, I did what I could for her.”
Mr. Wrong Page 8
