He is Mine

by Mel Gough

  Off-set, everyone is much more dispersed in LA than they were in Las Vegas. Viv and Victor go home every night to their own house and their own bed. In the beginning, this feels like heaven, but soon Viv misses the knowledge of having Damien in the same building, sleeping just a floor below her. She hopes that he will approach her to initiate another tête-à-tête, but nothing of the sort happens.

  Things with Victor are also different. Viv isn’t angry with him any longer about the way he treated her when he had to rush back to LA. But she can’t summon up much attention for her husband right now. Even when they lie in bed and he reaches for her, Viv only manages to fake excitement by imagining lying in Damien’s arms.

  In the afternoon of Damien’s last day on set, Viv tries to corner him to fix another rendezvous. But after a quick glass of champagne and a short speech, thanking Victor and the crew with kind and heartfelt words, Damien simply slips away. When Viv checks on him a mere ten minutes later, he’s no longer in his trailer.

  “He had to catch a flight,” one of the assistants tells Viv as she stands outside the closed door of the Winnebago that was Damien’s while they shot in LA. The girl smiles a guileless smile, but Viv doesn’t like the way she appraises her. “Didn’t he tell you he had to rush away?”

  “Oh,” Viv says. “Of course he did.” And she turns her back on the assistant and walks away, fuming. So he told all the aides what his plans were but couldn’t even say a proper goodbye to her. Who needs that sort of asshole, anyway?

  Then, in no time at all, or so it seems, principal photography is finished. Viv goes home with a tipsy Victor, fuming again that her texts to Damien in which she invited him to the wrap party go unanswered.

  Viv wakes the next morning feeling out of sorts as soon as she opens her eyes. It’s a familiar feeling. For weeks and weeks while in the middle of a project, she dreams of the day when she will finally have no more early calls and hours in the makeup chair. Then, when the day comes, all she feels is emptiness.

  Of course, in a few days it’ll all have equalized. She’ll be back in a routine of hair and beauty appointments, and lining up auditions for her next project. Victor will be back in the studio, cutting the movie and organizing all that post-production stuff she doesn’t understand. Their life will go on. But today, she feels adrift.

  She looks over at Victor, who is sprawled on the king size bed next to her. He lies on his back, mouth open, still out cold. As she watches him breathe Viv feels an odd mix of emotions. She’s kind of proud of him for getting this film made, and still pleased that she was his muse and that so much of the story revolved around her character. But she also feels unease.

  A few times, when she had little to do on set, she almost went up to him to act on her desire to learn more about the behind-the-scenes of movie making. But she never followed through. She doesn’t feel the same connection she used to with her husband and this work. The truth, which Viv is only just ready to admit to herself, is that Victor is starting to bore her. He’s only interested in his films, and even when he looks at her she suspects that most of the time he wonders what role he can cast her in next. That she has a brain, too, and interests that might lie outside what they do for a living, never occurs to him. And that he seems indifferent to the fact that they can’t have children makes Viv angrier and angrier every time she thinks about it.

  With a small sigh, Viv rolls over and retrieves her phone. She taps the screen without much hope for anything interesting. But in fact, she has a new message, and it’s from Damien.

  Sorry bout last night. Got into LAX real late, busy all day today. Bit of a difficult time rn. Catch up later, k? D x

  Viv lets her hand with the phone drop onto the mattress. So he’s here but can’t make time for his employer’s wrap party. Chewing her lip, Viv sits up. She brings up the browser on her phone and goes to the bookmarks. There, right at the top, are the Google news results for Damien’s name. She checks them every day. Needless to say, Stef is no longer allowed to touch her phone.

  And there, right at the top, is a new headline.

  Damien Thomas’s fight for his daughter

  Heartrate increasing, Viv taps the headline.

  Actor Damien Thomas, who shot to fame in the last couple of years with Viking drama Gaukur, and who is currently shooting Dark Core with acclaimed director Victor Cahn, attends a hearing at Central Civil West Courthouse early this morning.

  There’s a picture of Damien, looking at the ground, body angled away from the paparazzi, as he ascends the stairs outside an official-looking building Viv recognizes as having passed in the car. The article continues,

  Thomas, 36, is currently embroiled in a custody battle for his five-year-old daughter, whose mother is fashion model Idil Phoenix. Thomas and Phoenix were unavailable for comment, but TMZ has learned that the court session is expected to last until midday today.

  Viv flicks back to the top of the article to confirm that the date of the article is today. Then she puts down the phone, gets up off the bed, and goes into the kitchen. The coffee maker was loaded and set by the housekeeper as usual last night, so, partying or not, the coffee is ready. Viv pours herself a cup. As she sips it she ponders what she just read. Poor guy! She feels a genuine twinge of sorrow for Damien over what he has to deal with not to lose his place in his daughter’s life. She’s a little surprised at herself. The people she feels genuine compassion for can be counted on one hand, with fingers left over. Well, he’s a nice guy, and she has become fond of him.

  Viv makes up her mind. Since she has nothing to do today she’ll go downtown and surprise Damien. After looking at those ghouls in the courtroom all morning, her smiling face will be a welcome distraction. Not that she’s ever been inside a courthouse, but everyone knows what that’s like. Law & Order gives her the heebies. Yes, she’ll cheer him up, maybe take him out to lunch.

  Viv puts the coffee mug in the sink, then goes back upstairs. Her head ticks off the To Do list already. Washing her hair, definitely. Maybe she can squeeze in an emergency appointment at the nail salon, too, if she hurries. She snatches up her phone from the nightstand and makes for the bathroom just as Victor begins to stir. She pays him no mind, her brain busy with deciding on the perfect outfit.

  16

  The only place near the courthouse where Viv can sit and wait is a Starbucks across the street. It’s far from ideal; even sitting in the window Viv finds it hard to make out the faces of the people coming down the deep, low steps leading to the front door of the all-glass courthouse building.

  A baseball cap pulled low over her face, she sips her skinny vanilla latte, peering out of the window and checking her phone every so often, to see if any paps have managed to snap pictures of Damien leaving. Maybe she missed him, maybe the session was quick, and he was gone before she even made it here, even though she skipped the nail salon in the end. She tries to imagine how long something like a custody court hearing can last, but no Law & Order episode on that topic comes to mind.

  Then, when all that’s left of her latte is dregs in the soggy paper cup, and she’s getting bored, Viv spots a familiar figure across the street. She recognizes Damien easily by his wide shoulders alone. There he is, coming down to the pavement with another man.

  Viv chucks her phone into her handbag and leaves her empty cup sitting on the table in the window. She hurries out of the coffee shop and jabs at the crossing light’s button. Damien and the other man walk down Commonwealth Avenue away from her, but they walk slow. Damien lights a cigarette as they walk. Viv knows that Damien mostly lights up when he’s stressed, or feels a migraine coming. She taps her foot, until the red man finally changes to green and she starts crossing the street. She scowls as Damien takes drag after drag from his cigarette. That’d be just what they need, his headaches to ruin her plan.

  She measures her step as she follows the two men. Damien is in jeans and a dark shirt tucked in untidily. The other man, who is as tall as Victor and towers over Damien, wears
an expensive-looking suit. Hugo Boss, Viv judges by what she can see of the collar and the back of the jacket. He’s probably Damien’s attorney. She ponders if she should approach Damien while the other man is still with him.

  Viv has her story ready, so it doesn’t matter if he’s alone or not. But while she still contemplates her move, the lawyer says something to Damien that Viv can’t hear and claps him on the shoulder. Then he veers left into the parking lot behind the courthouse. Damien stands for a moment, staring at the other man’s retreating back and pulling on his cigarette. Then he starts walking again. Viv hurries her steps.

  “Damien,” she calls when she’s so close she hardly need to raise her voice. He turns around, and she gives him a little wave. When she draws level with him she says, smiling, “I thought that was you!”

  “Hey,” he says, sounding preoccupied. “What’re you doing here?”

  Viv waves in the direction of the courthouse. “Oh, just had to sign some paperwork. What a surprise to see you!”

  Viv isn’t sure she’s convincing, so she hurries on, in a lower voice, “I’m sorry you couldn’t make it last night. You said ‘difficult times’ in your text. I didn’t realize that meant court.” She tries to sound sincere but not like she knows anything.

  “Yeah,” he mumbles but won’t meet her eyes.

  This isn’t going to plan. Suppressing her irritation, Viv asks as gently as she can, “Hey, are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” he says again, but then shakes his head. “Actually, no.”

  Viv had expected this to go one of two ways: Either he’d be glad to see her and take charge. Or he’d fob her off and leave. But he does neither, just stands there on the sidewalk like a sad puppy, waiting for her to speak. All right, she can do gentle and caring when she has to. And she can take charge. Viv puts a hand on his arm.

  “Bad news?” she asks, and finally he looks at her. He gives a jerky nod but doesn’t speak.

  “Let me buy you a drink,” she improvises the line she’d thought might come from him. “Or lunch. We—”

  “Come back to my hotel,” Damien interrupts her.

  The way the conversation has been going so far, this is the last thing Viv expected. But she rallies immediately. “Okay,” she says. “If that’s what you want, sure.”

  “You drive here?” he asks.

  “No, I took a cab.”

  Without another word, Damien steps up to the curb, scanning the traffic. After a few moments he spots an empty cab and flags it down. He flicks his cigarette butt into the gutter, and they climb into the back of the taxi and sit in uncomfortable silence for several minutes.

  “You sure you want this?” Viv finally asks. She already half regrets having agreed to go with him. He doesn’t seem in the mood for sex.

  He doesn’t listen, just stares down at his hand. “I’m losing her,” he whispers. His voice is barely audible.

  “What?” Viv asks, trying not to sound impatient.

  “My daughter,” he says, a little louder. “Idil is taking Zoe away from me.”

  Viv hesitates, then reaches out and takes his hand. His fingers are warm. “I’m really sorry, Damien. Maybe…maybe we should take a raincheck.”

  His head comes up, eyes brimming with tears. “Please…,” he says, still in that tiny whisper. “I…I don’t wanna be alone.”

  Internally, Viv gives a sigh. Out loud she says, “All right. Of course, I won’t leave you alone, if you don’t want me to.” Even though she’d rather do almost anything else she pulls his hand into her lap and squeezes his fingers. He gives her a small smile.

  “Thanks,” he whispers. Viv feels a twinge of pity.

  They don’t speak again until they get to the Four Seasons Hotel. Viv makes to open her door, but Damien holds her back. His eyes are dry now, and he looks more in control. He rummages in his pocket and pulls out a key card. “Room 442,” he says, and adds with a strained smile, “I’ll go to the bar first. Champagne okay?”

  “Sure,” Viv says, feeling relieved. That’s much more like it. She gets out of the cab and makes her way into the marble lobby alone. The hotel doesn’t allow paps on the premises, but the place is always full of celebrities. Better to not be seen together if they can avoid it. What would happen if Victor did find out about Damien, Viv doesn’t want to contemplate right now.

  She meets nobody as she walks down the fourth-floor corridor. On a midweek day at lunchtime not many of the guests hide in their rooms.

  Viv lets herself into Damien’s room, a delicious shudder of excitement running through her. She looks around. The room seems uninhabited. Damien’s small bag sits on the chaise lounge by the window, and his sunglasses lie next to the TV. Viv frowns. This room is so small. Why didn’t he at least book a suite?

  Oh well, she’s not going to be here long enough to care. She toes off her shoes, pulls off the baseball cap and frees her long hair from its loose bun at the nape of her neck. She puts her handbag on a chair and digs through it for her phone. Clutching it, she lets herself fall backward onto the bed. Phone held above her she scrutinizes her pose. She tugs and twirls her hair on the pillow until she likes the effect, then starts taking selfies.

  It takes her a few tries before she manages one she likes the look of. She can’t decide whether she looks better with her lips slightly parted or with her mouth closed. Open-mouthed always makes her think of fish gasping for air. Finally, with her lips in a slight O-shape, she manages the perfect selfie.

  Once she’s satisfied with the filter, she posts the picture to her Instagram, using a heart as the caption. Viv surveys the result. Romantic and feminine yet giving away nothing.

  There’s a knock on the door. Viv gets up. On her way she drops the phone back into her bag.

  “Veuve Clicquot,” Damien says when the door swings open, holding up a bottle. “Just like in Vegas.”

  He isn’t smiling as he steps into the room, but his face is calmer. He busies himself with the bottle and pours two glasses. Viv stands by, watching and uncomfortable with the silence. When Damien picks up the two glasses and hands her one, his eyes have a faraway look, even though he gazes right at her. It feels like an odd déjà vu, clinking the glasses and sipping the fizzy liquid.

  Viv’s stomach was full of butterflies at their first meeting on the roof in Vegas, and she feels a squirming now, too. But it’s not just excitement this time. Damien still has that flat, faraway gaze. He knocks back the champagne with a wince and turns to put his glass on the table next to the bottle. He doesn’t urge her to hurry up, but Viv feels the mounting tension. She takes a large gulp of champagne and puts down her glass, too.

  Damien toes off his shoes and takes a step toward her. He has to look down a mere half-inch; barefoot they’re of almost equal height. Without preamble he kisses her, and his hands are soon busy with the buttons of her short dress.

  They’re on the bed within minutes. Damien’s hands roam her body, exploring, teasing, while he peels away one item of clothing after the next. Soon, they’re naked, his erection silken and hot against her thigh. But he doesn’t make eye contact, and never utters a word.

  Viv lets him take charge, feeling dazed by how quick he is, and by his efficiency of teasing her arousal to the tipping point in such a short period of time.

  They lie on top of the covers, and he crowds close. He nuzzles her neck, her shoulder, then rolls her onto her right before she even knows what’s happening. She faces the window, away from him, and cranes her neck to see him. He looks down, his raven curls falling into his eyes as he watches his own fingers trailing down the smooth skin of her flank. Then his fingers glide down her back, her spine and then they disappear between her butt cheeks. Viv gives a small yelp.

  Is he looking for some backdoor action? If so, she hopes he has some lube ready, and takes his time. But before she can speak, his fingers push down and forward, and he slides them into her wet pussy. She gasps. After a few moments of gentle stimulation, Damien withdraws his hand and l
ets it glide down the back of her thigh. She can feel her own wetness cooling on her skin where he leaves a trail.

  His breath is hot on her neck. He pushes her top leg forward, then scoots close. Viv feels his erection press against her butt.

  She wriggles her hips back, and glances over her shoulder. She’s ready for him. Damien is still looking down, and for a moment Viv is tempted to snap at him. Why’s he not paying her any attention? But then he pushes into her, and she forgets everything else. His cock feels good from this angle, and he has to take care with the movements so that he doesn’t slip out. His breath picks up, and his pelvis smacks against her butt as he increases the speed of his thrusts.

  Suddenly, he raises himself up on his elbow and leans over until he can catch her mouth with his. They’re still locked into this position when his thrusts cease and he stiffens against her. He comes with a low growl.

  At last, he breaks the kiss and hides his face against her shoulder for a moment, his curls tickling her bare skin, his fast breaths hot and wet against her arm. Then he rolls onto his back. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “This…I shouldn’t…this wasn’t right.” He lies very still for a few seconds, with only his ribcage moving as his breathing slows. “Can…can you leave, please?”

  Viv rolls over, not sure she’s heard him right. He won’t look at her, just stares off to the side. Viv’s gaze travels down his naked body, and to his penis, now flopping against his thigh. He’s not wearing a condom.

  Viv ponders. Should she make a scene? Call him out for forcing himself on her without protection? She stays silent. Oddly, she doesn’t feel troubled.

  When she doesn’t move, he rolls onto his side away from her, and pulls his legs up. Viv’s eyes glide down his naked back and buttocks. He looks vulnerable, and Viv doesn’t care for that.