by Renee Dyer
I think I just met the woman of my damn dreams. Every wet dream I’ve ever had.
“I would love to see that car. They have one down the road from where we tape the show I just finished. So many times, I’ve wanted to go to their set and ask if I could take it for a joy ride. I just want to see how beautiful that girl is when you open her up. Tell me you took your sister’s car out for a ride before you gave her away.”
She looks at me, those big brown eyes, boring into my soul. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same after meeting her. No woman will compare to this beauty who understands my love for old cars. Yeah, they suck for gas mileage and they’re loud, but the sound they make is music to my ears. They sing to her too.
“Fuck yeah I did. She purred for me.” What? Did I really just say the car purred for me?
Her laughter bellows through the air. I love that it’s not a soft sound. It’s an all-encompassing, from her gut laughter that brings a smile to my face.
“That’s a ride I would have loved to tag along for. One of my favorite cars ever.” Her eyes sparkle and I can see she’s envisioning being in the Impala with me. I wish she had been.
“So, where does this love of cars come from? You don’t strike me as a gear head or a grease monkey or any of the other unsavory names we get called.”
She gives me a shy smile and looks down to the table. She sits so still and quiet for a minute, I wonder if she’s going to talk. “The only place I ever felt like me was under the hood of a car, but everyone told me I was too pretty to be covered in grease. They told me girls like me belonged on the hood, not under it. My shop teacher in high school tried to help me push beyond that stereotype. He told me I was a natural and understood the symmetry and flow of cars. He said I should be what and who I want to be, but he was the only one who understood my dream. He was the only one who didn’t pick on me, berate me, or want something from me because of the way I looked. He actually saved me from… well, that doesn’t matter anymore. It was a long time ago. I listened to all the people who told me acting and modeling was the life for me, that this was where pretty faces go.”
Sadness washes over her pretty features and all I want to do is sweep her into my arms and tell her she can come back to New Hampshire and get dirty in my shop all she wants. I don’t even mean anything remotely kinky by those thoughts. She reminds me of someone who’s gotten a bad rap. I think people believe she’s a horrible person and maybe she has had a hand in that, but on the inside, I think she just wants to be accepted and cared about.
Don’t we all want that?
I grab my wallet and pull my business card from it. I tell her to stay at the table for one second and I’ll be right back. I walk to the counter, notice there’s a woman back there now, and ask for a pen. I write my cell number on the back and walk back to our table.
I hand Victoria the card. She looks at me confused. “Look, Vicky, can I call you Vicky?”
“Most people call me Vic.” Eww. That sounds too harsh to me. It doesn’t suit the person I’m seeing in front of me.
“Nah, I like Vicky better. Think I’ll stick with that.” She smiles at me. “Take this card. It has my cell on the back. You ever want to talk about those old hopes and dreams of yours, I promise not to laugh at you, tease you, or tell you that you’re too pretty to work on cars. In fact, if you ever find yourself in New Hampshire, feel free to come get some grease on your hands. I’d love to see if you still know your way around an engine.”
Her face drops and I don’t understand why. I replay what I said and I can’t think of anything that would cause that reaction.
“New Hampshire, your sister, that’s why you’re here right?”
“Yeah,” I answer, even more confused now. “She came to see her hotshot actor boyfriend this weekend and she hates flying. She’s petrified of it actually, so I came along. Why?”
“Oh, Adrian. I’m so sorry, but I’m the last person you want to be talking to or giving your card to. Don’t you get who I am yet?”
Tears swim in her eyes, but I can see that she’s fighting to keep them from falling. I don’t understand what the hell is happening. We were having a good time, a great time actually. What do Tucker and Adri have to do with anything?
“You don’t watch his show?” she asks.
“No, I’m not a big TV watcher, why? Can you tell me what’s going on, Vicky?”
She’s lets out a big sigh and the sadness stays on her face. I want to take it away, tell her that it can’t be that bad. “I’m Tucker’s ex, the one who cheated on him.”
I sit there staring at her, trying to make the words sink in. She can’t be the one who went to Adri’s house and insulted her. The one who called the paparazzi to my sister’s house. Those people harassed my sister for months. She can’t be that same person because the person in front of me is stealing my heart.
“I’m so sorry to tell you that. That’s why I’m the most hated woman in Vancouver. Everyone loves Tucker here. Even if he ever forgives me for what I did, the fans never will.”
I can see in her eyes that she hasn’t forgiven herself. She hates herself. You can tell a person that beats themselves up, spends hours a day degrading themselves for their past mistakes, if you just look in their eyes. Vicky doesn’t like the person she is. I want to be angry at her, but I can’t. I feel sorry for her.
So, I say to her the only thing I can, honest words. “My mom always taught me growing up that a relationship takes two people to work and people only cheat when they aren’t happy. That doesn’t mean I agree with what you did or that I condone it, because I don’t. I believe that if you’re not happy, you should leave. Why add insult to injury? I’m sure from what I’ve learned about Tucker that he is thinking about his mistakes in your relationship too and someday he will forgive you. He strikes me as that type of guy. I wish you hadn’t called the paparazzi though. That caused my sister a lot of stress she didn’t need.”
She starts to say something and I cut her off. I need to finish what I started and I don’t want her to apologize to me. It isn’t me she wronged.
“You don’t know this because you don’t know Adri, but a year and a half ago she lost her husband in a car accident. He was her best friend since they were six. She was completely lost to all of us until Tucker came around and then the paparazzi showed up. They could have had a much better time getting to know each other without that hindrance and she may not have walked away from him when he came back here over the summer. I can’t be sure. Life has a funny way of working out, but what I do know is Adri didn’t need the extra pain in her life. That being said, keep the card.”
I slide my business card back to her that she had laid on the table. She stares at me, hope flaring in her eyes. “You never know when you may decide you need a new friend. I’m willing to be that new friend, Vicky. People say I have this sixth sense when it comes to reading people and I know you aren’t a bad person. You may have made mistakes in life, but guess what? Mistakes are for learning from.”
“I, uh… I… thank you, Adrian, for this,” she says, holding up my card. “You need to know—oh shit, Tucker and your sister are coming. They shouldn’t see you with me. It will only complicate and upset matters. Thank you for lunch.”
She jumps up and throws her muffin into her bag. “Tucker is a great guy. He will make your sister really happy. You can trust in that,” she says as she rushes off.
I turn in my seat and watch as she goes the long way around to be sure to avoid Adri and Tucker. Their backs are to her. I’m not sure if they saw us together. I kind of wish they had because I want to talk about her and I know Adri would start a conversation. I have no idea where to start.
Man, I hope my Spidey-sense isn’t off when it comes to her.
Chapter Forty One
Victoria
I quickly escape the coffee shop and run around the side of the building. I stop for a second. I need to breathe. Figures, the first time a man makes my heart flutter, he ha
s to be someone I need to stay away from.
Correction, Victoria, second time—too bad it’s the same man.
I wanted to die when I realized he was the same man I saw step out of the Impala in the driveway in New Hampshire over the summer. I may have been there chasing Tucker, but the second I saw him, all thoughts of Tucker ceased. I haven’t stopped thinking of this man. I wanted to know his name, get a better look at his face, hear his voice, and see how he smelled. I got all of that today except how he smells. Damn overpowering smell of coffee.
Now, I’ll only have memories again.
I wipe the tears from under my eyes and mentally chastise myself for being so weak. Crying never solved anything. I need to pull myself together. God forbid a member of the paparazzi see me. They’d think I’m crying because Tucker’s inside with his new woman. That’s the last fucking thing I need.
I open the door behind me and climb the stairs to Joe’s apartment, the place I’ve been staying since leaving Tucker’s. I had nowhere else to go and he’s my only friend. It’s funny, when Tucker and I split up, I thought I had no friends, but Joe wouldn’t let me be alone. I thought he enjoyed me being around because I was on a TV show. I thought I was good for his reputation, but all along he loved me and he proved it when my world fell apart.
I walk through the apartment door and he’s sitting there with a cat ate the canary grin on his face. “What are you doing home?” I ask. “You’re supposed to be at the shop.” I try to avoid his gaze and the smile he refuses to drop. He’s creeping me out.
“Hooker, please! I saw you with that delicious piece of hunkarama. There was no way I was missing girl talk. I called Kiki in the second I saw you go all giddy and smile at him. I knew I needed to be right here. Unless, of course, you brought him back here. Then I would have skedaddled, but not before taking a peek at that fine ass. Mmm-mmm-mmm.”
I shake my head at him. I love him, I do, but his dramatics can be a tad much at times. Right now, I’d like to wallow in a tub of ice cream and forget I ever met Adrian. Yeah, like that’s going to happen.
“So, tell me all about Mr. Bright Eyes and Perfect Smile,” Joe chirps.
Ugh. He’s not going to let this go. I look at my friend and for the millionth time wonder why some guy hasn’t swooped him up already. He’s a great looking guy. We may joke about his skin tone— he calls it latte and I say it’s tea colored—but it doesn’t matter because it’s gorgeous. He’s likes to tell me he’s a mutt. He’s half Korean and half Indian. His black hair is always styled. Today, it’s gelled, parted more to the left, very sophisticated, sexy. And, his dark brown, almost black eyes, always look like he’s up to something. But, his lips, those make his face. They’re full on the bottom, and not so much on top. When he smiles, his upper lip gets thin. I don’t know how, but it adds to his looks. He always seems to be smiling and I can’t help but smile with him.
Normally.
“There’s nothing to tell, Joe.”
“Pfft. Why you holding back, bitch?”
“I’m not. We had lunch. It was fun, but he’s heading back to the states after the weekend.” I leave out who he really is. I don’t know why.
“Perfect. Weekend fun for you, babe.” I shake my head no. Adrian isn’t a fling for me. He never could be. When I saw him, talked to him, I saw possibilities. They may have shattered soon after, but he was never fling material.
“Well, if you aren’t going to go for a joy ride on his meat stick, do you mind if I do?”
“Geez, Joe, could you be any more gay?” I giggle at him.
“Sweetheart, if I was anymore gay, my parents would have named me Happy.”
Like that, my bad mood is turned around. I’m laughing with my best friend and we’re talking about Adrian’s assets. I just might survive meeting and losing the man of my dreams all in one day.
Chapter Forty Two
Eddie
I’m meeting Adriana and her brother in a few minutes. I’m not sure I want to meet either of them, but I’d prefer to meet her alone. I want to question her. Make sure she’s not going to fuck with Tucker’s head again. I’m not sure I can do that with her brother here. I know what big brothers are like, especially when it comes to their sisters.
I wish Tucker would have taken some time after the shit with Victoria to get his head straight, but he had to go and see the “smile”. Fucking A, Grams and that shit she’s been telling us about meeting our one. I don’t believe it, but I guess he does because he has his head shoved up his ass, in love with this girl. He even bought a fucking ring.
A ring! What the fuck was that all about? The man hasn’t even told her he loves her. Not really. I don’t care if he saw the smile or not, they haven’t gotten to the point where they can admit their feelings for each other. She can still run again and demolish his damn heart for good this time. There should be no motherfucking ring buying. I wish I could pull his head out of his ass and make him take a good look in the mirror, but he’s so fucking blind. Maybe that old saying is true.
A knock at the door brings me from my mental hatred of all things cupid and I rise from the couch. My six foot six frame swallows the distance to the door in seconds. It’s one time I hate my height. I breathe in once, close my eyes, and open them, allowing my disdain for this evening to flow out of my system with the breath leaving my body. I plaster the smile I’ve mastered over the years onto my face and open the door.
Tucker stands there, beaming like a damn idiot, his hand locked in the hand of a tiny beauty. He wasn’t joking when he said she was gorgeous. She looks at me and her nerves hit me first. I wish she were a little taller. Her slightness makes me feel the need to protect her instead of question her and I hate that I have a weakness from my past that is rearing its ugly head right now.
I step back and let them pass. As they do, I take a look at Tucker and put my hand on his chest to stop him. “What the fuck happened to your eye?” It’s fucking purple. That will be a bitch to cover, even for the make-up specialists we have on staff.
“I happened.” I look over to who I have to assume is her brother. He stands there with his hand stretched out to me. I don’t know whether to shake his hand or deck him. Tucker clears his throat and nods toward the brother. Shake it is.
“Sorry about his eye. I thought he fucked around on my baby sister.” He shrugs while shaking my hand. Brothers. Exactly why I didn’t want him here tonight.
“Adrian, would you stop calling me your baby sister for Christ’s sake. We’re only six minutes apart. Eddie, I’m really sorry about Tucker’s eye. If I hadn’t run out of his trailer earlier… I mean, it did look like he was—shit, this isn’t how I wanted to introduce myself to you. I’m Adriana.”
She smiles at me and I get why Tucker is smitten with her. Her face lights up and there’s an innocence that I can see attracting him. Something pure about her that I can see him needing to wash away the sins he feels darken his soul.
“I understand why you left. It was rather damning evidence in front of you.” I try to keep any sarcasm out of my voice because I was in that trailer too, standing behind Tucker. Had she lifted her eyes, even a fraction, she would have seen me and known it wasn’t what she thought, but she had tunnel vision. She got lost, staring at Tucker and what she believed he was doing.
It leads me to believe that she doesn’t trust him. All stuff I want to figure out, but how do I do that around the guard dog?
“Thank you for having us over for dinner,” she says. “It was really nice of you on such short notice.”
“It’s just pizza and beer. I hope that’s alright. I didn’t have time to go for anything else.”
“I love beer and I’m sure these two won’t mind that.” Shit. I was hoping to find a flaw, that she would complain. Something I could use, but so far, I like her.
We sit to wait for the pizza and I ask her about her photography business. I ask about the pictures she took of Tucker and she’s quick to tell me she offered all the negativ
es to him, but he wouldn’t take them. She tells me they are locked in a fireproof safe and if I want them, she will gladly send them to me. She doesn’t want to use them or make any monetary gain off Tucker. Many customers have asked if she’s done shoots for him or to see the Tucker portfolio, but she’s had to disappoint them and tell them she has not been hired by his agent.
And she passes another test.
Tucker watches the banter between us with a smile on his face. He knows what I’m doing. I’m sure he expected it from me and as long as I don’t cross any lines, he’ll let me continue.
“Eddie, have you always wanted to be a writer? It seems so exciting,” she says, a genuine smile on her face.
“I’ve written since I was a kid. I wrote my first screenplay when I was eight.”
“Eight. Oh my goodness,” she squeals. “Tucker told me you’re a writing genius, but I had no idea you started so young. That’s amazing. It makes sense why he’s so proud of you.” It’s weird to hear her gush about me or to hear that Tucker has been. He’s so guarded about his feelings.
“What’s with the hat and shades dude?” her brother pipes in beside us.
“Adrian Peter Bennett, we were raised with better manners than that. You do not come into a man’s home and insult him. Now, apologize.” She skewers her brother with her glare and he throws his hands up in defeat.
“Sorry, man, no offense meant.” I nod at him.
“I apologize for my brother. I think all the fumes from the cars he works on go straight to his head.” I can’t stop myself from laughing at her. She’s in a room with three men who all tower her by more than a foot and I have a feeling she would make us cower at her feet if she wanted us to.
The pizza comes and we sit down to eat, but not before Adriana asks where the plates are and tells us to get comfy. She gets our food and drinks. Tucker watches her, contentment pouring off my best friend. She’s good for him.
