by Ana Sparks
“You don’t recognize that this is clearly an English accent?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “You Americans are such idiots, you know that?”
“We know it, and we own it,” I said, bowing my head. “Now, as much as I’m enjoying standing around being insulted by the Queen of England, I think I’d better be on my way.”
“Just remember, you’re only a colonial to me,” she responded, winking. She spun around and continued on her way, flicking her hair back. For a brief moment, I watched her go.
And then, I reminded myself that I had a job to do.
Continuing down the street, my heart burned with the pleasure of meeting someone, of just interacting with a gorgeous woman. Come with me, I wanted to shout back. Let’s get a drink. Let’s curse the world together.
My sister had been a beautician for nearly a decade, at the same little shack-like beauty parlor that had an apartment upstairs. The apartment was her own, the place where boyfriends came and went, a place that she’d often told me she would “die alone” in. I didn’t quite believe it. She was insanely loveable, a beautiful, thin little thing, with hair that changed colors like the seasons.
As I stood on the sidewalk out front, I grew increasingly nervous. I hadn’t seen Leandra in years. Not since I’d returned from Afghanistan. Before I’d left L.A. the last time, she had sobbed into my shoulder, begging me to stay. That she would take care of me. That going all the way across the country to “feel better” wasn’t the answer. “PTSD is a very real thing,” she’d told me, her eyes red with tears. “And I can help you better if you’re here.”
But I hadn’t listened. And our phone conversations had grown fewer and farther between, until now, it almost seemed like I was visiting a stranger.
Finally, I took a deep breath and took the last few strides towards the door of her beauty salon. The ‘OPEN’ sign was sun-bleached and a little cracked. I pushed on the door, which stuck slightly, and then stepped into the blasting air conditioning.
“Baby brother!” Leandra’s words crept into my ears. I blinked into the darkness as my eyes adjusted to see her rushing towards me. She crossed the distance before I could react, and wrapped her arms around my neck and jumped against my chest. For a long time, we didn’t speak, allowing our hug to say all the words we hadn’t to one another in years.
“Well, well,” I said, breaking the hug and glancing around. The same stations, the same hair dryers, the same mirrors: the place hadn’t changed at all in four years. “Looks like you’re doing all right?”
“Psh, I have my regular customers,” Leandra replied, gesturing for me to sit. “And, honestly, it looks like you could use a haircut yourself.”
“Don’t be honest, Leandra. It doesn’t suit you,” I laughed. She tossed me a beer from a mini-fridge near her chair, which I cracked open gratefully. The beer was cold and crisp. I guzzled it a bit too fast, feeling my brain relax slightly. This, for better or for worse, was home.
“How have you been?” she asked, almost gasping. She was eating me up with her eyes, taking stock of me as an older man. “29 years old now. Last I saw you, you were what—25?”
“Just a boy,” I laughed, shaking my head. “It does feel like a million years ago, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe more.”
She cracked open her own beer and slipped toward the door, flipping the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’. Her hair was dyed bright red, with white streaks in it, and it was longer than it had been years before. It made her look wild and free in a way she hadn’t in years. I grinned up at her, shrugging. “It’s only three-fifteen. You don’t have any more appointments today?”
“No, Baby Bro,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been saving this afternoon for you.” Tears glinted in her eyes as she gazed down at me, holding back secrets. “You can’t imagine what has been going on.”
I shifted, watching as she took a seat across from me. The air conditioner blared in the corner, becoming louder with each moment of silence that passed. I waited, knowing that she would fall into the tale soon. Knowing my sister, she would want the drama to unfold slowly, cinematically. Like many who came to L.A., she had wanted to be an actress, before falling back into her beautician role. But she’d never lost her charisma.
“It’s Dad,” she said then, nodding. “As if you couldn’t guess.”
“Sure.” I had assumed. Our father, also ex-army, was a tough man, solemn and stern.
When I’d enlisted in the army at 22, he hadn’t spoken to me for several days. The day before I was due to leave, he had gripped my shoulders, and told me that enlisting in the army was the stupidest thing I could have possibly done. “It’ll fuck you up, son,” he said. “It’ll make you think you’re crazy. It’ll make you think the world is out to get you. I’m telling you. Don’t go.”
But I had gone. I hadn’t known what else to do with my life. I had assumed—wrongly—that filling my years with something like the army would give me some kind of direction. In the end, Dad had been right. The army had eaten at my soul, made me think the world was cruel and bleak. When I had returned, I had been a shell of my former self, and I hadn’t wanted to face what my father knew to be true about me. I’d left.
“But Dad doesn’t want anything to do with me,” I told her, after a brief pause. “You know that. He wants to just hide in his little shack in Echo Park and live out the rest of his days alone. He won’t even use his retirement savings. He’ll probably bury it in the backyard before we can get to it.”
“I hate when you talk about him like that. He was trying to protect you, all those years,” Leandra said, her eyes narrowing. “Funny you should mention his retirement…he’s been scammed out of it.”
My ears perked up. Righting myself in the chair, I cocked my head. “Scammed out of two-hundred thousand dollars? How on earth did he manage that?”
“Dad doesn’t know how the world works anymore,” Leandra said, sighing. For the first time, I recognized how much she’d aged in the past few years. “He wasn’t going to tell me what happened, either. But he had been ignoring my calls, and I let it go on for a few weeks before I got worried and went around to check on him.”
I was stunned. When you’re younger, you can’t imagine the big, sturdy man who “runs” your family will be beaten down and stripped of his savings. The moment you realize he’s a human, on the wrong side of his timeline, mortality hits you like a brick wall—his life will end, and so will yours. All in due time.
“He’s completely broke, Billy,” Leandra said. Reaching into her pocket, she drew out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, inhaling sharply.
“I didn’t think you smoked anymore,” I said, eyeing her. “You know that’s how—”
“Yeah, yeah. I know Mom died of lung cancer, Billy. I was there.” Her words were crisp and her eyes were sharp. I’d hit a nerve. “You don’t have to remind me.”
I shifted in my chair, suddenly wishing that I’d stayed in Brooklyn, where I felt I belonged. After a pause, as the smoke filled the air around us, I asked: “Who is this guy who scammed Dad, then?”
“He’s this British asshole called Clark Lambert. Sounds like he does this kind of stuff all the time. He pretended to own a condo development. Dad wanted to get out of his little Echo Park shack, if you can believe it, and build a better life for himself. Now, I don’t know how he’ll manage with simple things, like groceries.”
“This is so fucked,” I sighed, my brain racing with ideas of what I could do. Living on the “other” side of the law, I sensed there was a grey area; that I couldn’t deal with the police even when trying to get this asshole. “Clark Lambert, you say?”
“I think you should call Dad,” Leandra said, her eyes searching mine. “It’s been years, and I think if he knew that you were on his side he would feel a lot better. At the end of life, I think any father would want to know that his son was there for him. Wouldn’t you?”
I didn’t answer. Chugging the rest of my beer, I tossed the can
into the recycling bin and skirted back outside, giving her a nod.
“Are you leaving?” she asked, her voice high-pitched, worried. She didn’t want me to run out on her again. She wanted me to step up for our family. For us.
“No, no,” I explained. “I’m just making a phone call.”
“Because I thought we could grab dinner at—”
“At La Señorita,” I said, completing her sentence. “I know. Me too.”
It was our place. The place we’d first snuck into for margaritas when we’d been underage, slipping extra bills to the Mexican waiters who couldn’t have cared less if we drank ourselves under the table, so long as we paid. The food was greasy, cheesy, burning your tongue and then oozing down your throat. So many sensations, for just five dollars. It was a place I had really missed while I was back in New York. But more than that, I missed going there with Leandra.
When we were there, it was as though the years that had passed between us hadn’t happened. Like we could slip back into another time.
Ducking outside, I drew my phone up to my ear, dialing the familiar number. “Randy,” I said. “How quick do you think you and Everett can get out to Los Angeles? I might have a job for you guys, if you’re up for some extra cash.”
I knew they were always up for whatever I asked them to do. Even if what I had in mind was on the slippery end of the law.
Chapter Three
Ruby
I awoke the next morning to a text message from Martin. As per usual, he avoided the topic of his anger, and instead ordered me to arrive at seven to man the reception desk—a job he knew I hated. It required being on your feet nearly all day, taking packages, getting people to sign things they don’t want to sign…the list went on.
It was already six-thirty, which meant that I was already late; I jumped up from my flat mattress and tiptoed through my apartment. I lived with three other people in Silver Lake, with each of us paying an astronomical rent for tiny bedrooms and a kitchen with a refrigerator that often didn’t keep things cold.
As I scrubbed my teeth, I glanced at the dress I had worn yesterday, hanging in the shower. Fading black, full of holes, and smelling of stale coffee. Remembering the way that man had looked at me the day before, moments after spilling it all over me—that flash of a smile, those snarky words—made a shiver run up and down my spine. But I didn’t know why.
I dressed quickly, pulling a brush through my hair and then rushing through the door, practically running to my car. The same, half-spilled Silver Lake Coffee cup remained in the cup holder, alongside another, even older one. I sighed. With all the stresses of my life, it seemed impossible to keep things organized.
Once at the agency, I stood poised at the reception desk, my feet already aching in my high heels. Martin swaggered into the office moments after I arrived and gave me a once-over. He chortled, clearly loving how miserable I looked. In his hand, he held a cup from Silver Lake Coffee, which made my cheeks grow red with anger.
“Morning, Ruby Red,” he said to me. Sidling up toward the reception desk, he leaned over. “You know you’re on death’s door at this place, don’t you? One more fuck up…”
“And who else would you have run the reception desk?” I retorted, my eyes glittering.
“You know, every pretty wannabe actress in this city would kill for a job like this. You’re getting exposure, all the time,” Martin hissed. “And don’t think it isn’t because of me. I’m the reason you’re still here.”
You’re also the reason I want to jump off a cliff, I thought.
I gave him a painful smile, and then turned to greet someone coming through the agency doors. Martin shuffled off, a sneer on his shiny face. I could hear his high-pitched greeting to Jeremy in the next room, who hadn’t managed to get through all of the Christmas lights for that set decoration, despite spending his entire day elbow deep in lights and wiring yesterday.
None of us were going to make it. That was suddenly crystal-clear.
After a few hours at the office, I heard the jangling of bells and glanced up at the door. There, standing in the center of the foyer, was that tall, brooding man from yesterday. The one I’d collided with and spilled that goddamn coffee all over me. He hadn’t even apologized. The one whose smile sent shivers through my soul.
My lips parted with shock. It seemed like I was living in some kind of dream. I shook my head, shifting in my heels, and put a confident look on my face. “Have you come back to apologize?”
The smile that stretched across his face nearly made me laugh out loud. He was arrogant and wild, with a power over me I couldn’t deny. He took the extra steps so he was close enough to lean on the reception desk, towering over me. He swept his hand forward, wanting to shake mine.
“I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he said.
“What was your first clue?” I replied, returning his cheeky smile.
“I should apologize, I suppose. Who knows where you were headed? Coffee spilled all down your fancy dress. Must have ruined your day.”
I could sense his sarcasm. Rolling my eyes, I said, “All right. Everyone wants to talk shit about my dress. Honestly, it’s not that bad. Just a bit of wear and tear…”
Why was I standing up for a work dress I hated? Why was I stumbling over myself, lost in his eyes? I paused for a long time, gesturing back toward the inner workings of the agency. “Did you, um, come here looking for someone?”
“Actually, I did,” he continued. He pressed his hands against the countertop and gazed down at me, brooding. “I might have found her already. What was your name?”
My heart had begun to hammer in my chest, rattling my ribcage. “It’s Ruby,” I said, trying to sound confident. “Ruby Simons.”
“Well, Ruby Simons, I’m Billy Jay Johnston.”
“That’s about the most American name I’ve ever heard in my life,” I said, almost snorting.
“I might be the most American man you’ve ever met,” he returned, his eyes glittering. “And Ruby, I came in here looking for an actress. It’s a quick, one-time performance of sorts.”
I shuffled toward the side of the desk, hunting for the check-in sheet. If he was going to be hiring one of our actresses, then he needed to go through Martin. The schedule was tightly packed, with meetings stretching all through the late afternoon. I scanned it, still feeling Billy’s eyes on mine.
“But now that I’ve run into you again, I can’t imagine that it’s anything other than fate,” he continued, his voice deep. “What do you say, Ruby Simons? Do you want to make some quick cash?”
I glanced up at him, stuttering. “Oh, I’m no actress. I’m just the receptionist here. I have to be honest with you, my American accent is dismal. I’ve been practicing for ages. No luck.”
“Ruby, that’s actually the beauty of this part. I need an actress with a proper British accent. Like yours.”
He leaned closer and the smell of his cologne filled my senses. I fidgeted, trying to find anything else to look at, but his eyes trapped me, and his presence held such power over me.
“I’m just not sure I’ll be able to do the job well enough for you,” I whispered, growing less and less sure. In the corner of my eye, I watched as Jeremy trudged down the hall, carrying a large sack of untangled Christmas lights.
“Come on, Ruby. You’re better than the assholes here. Everyone here is just waiting for someone to finally point to them and say—yes! It’s you! I’ve been looking for you all along! You’re fucking great. And you could actually use that sass I saw in you yesterday for the greater good.”
I gazed into his eyes, then, trying to read the lie. But I found no dishonesty in him. He was sensual, at ease, as if he’d known me for years and could speak the language of my soul. After a brief moment, I shrugged.
“I’d need to know more about the character,” I said.
“And that’s why I’d like to take you out for a drink to discuss it in greater detail,” he said. “Come on, Rub
y. What time are you off?”
I glanced at my watch. It was still only 10:30, which meant I was worlds away from any sort of after-work drink. “Six,” I murmured, giving him a secret smile.
Billy thumped his fist on the reception desk, the thrill of me agreeing seeming to engulf him with joy. His eyes burned. “Yes, Ruby. You won’t regret this.”
But I sensed that I would. I watched as he turned from the desk and walked out the door, his muscles large and bulky beneath his t-shirt, his head held high, his hair hanging in playful curls, down by his ears. He was gruff and sexy, with a bad boy flair.
And there was no way in hell he should be attracted to me.
I spent the entire rest of my shift in a kind of daydream, giving extra smiles to people who came through reception, giggling when Jeremy made an off-the-cuff joke, and monitoring each second as it ticked away. Soon, I’d be on the other side—in another dimension, having a drink with Billy Jay Johnston.
For the first time in months, I didn’t have a single thought about my plans to run back to England. I didn’t think about my failure as an actress. With something to hope for, something to cling to, I felt free.
Chapter Four
Billy
I kicked around for a few hours while I waited for Ruby to finish her shift, taking Leandra’s car to Silver Lake and Echo Park area and sitting out on a patio, drinking cold beer and dreaming up the perfect scam. Ruining a man was a delicate task, as you had to do it without him noticing that his world was shifting, sometimes right before his very eyes.
After a couple beers and a burger, I walked down Silver Lake, toward my father’s house. Sound clips from our last conversation echoed in my head. Him telling me that I was fucking up our family, and our relationship. Him saying that my mother would never approve of it. God. Of course, with the magic of hindsight, I know that I should have listened to him.
Standing at the top of my father’s driveway, I gazed at the windows, trying to catch any sign of movement. The blinds were closed, but the slats were broken, revealing the darkness behind. According to Leandra, Dad hadn’t left the house in ages, only for the odd grocery run or coffee at the corner café.
