by Renee Dyer
“I’ve told you, you are mine. This is mine,” he says slapping my ass. “I own you.”
The obsidian edges of my mind crackle with the awareness of my despair. They ebb and flow with the beat of my frantic heart, molding and stretching until I can once again find solace in the only place that allows me to disappear into nothingness. I settle into the darkest recesses of my mind and let the shadows wrap around me like a blanket, comforting me, blocking me from anything that can harm me. All the sights, sounds, feelings of the outside world collapse around me as I fall into obscurity.
My body may be being taken over, but I’d never know. My mind has gone numb, descended into the void that permits me to feel nothing. In this abyss, I can’t be touched, I can’t be tainted. I’m the Grant I envision myself as and I’m still strong.
Mercy is for the weak.
Weak, I will never be.
Chapter Eleven
Grant—Twenty Two Years Old
It’s been a little over two months since the “meeting” with Eddie. Walking in there and pretending I didn’t know the bullshit he had planned for me was like trying to contain a cyclone. I wanted to thrash his perfectly set up office, spew the papers he had so neatly stacked, and punch him in his controlled face.
I never had a problem with Eddie Carmichael before, but he put himself on my shit list.
In the time since that meeting, I’ve had to push harder than ever to keep my emotions in check and my agendas hidden.
Although, if anyone ever found my little hidey-hole, they would know how twisted I truly am. There would be no way to hide my hatred any longer.
Not that I’ve been trying to hide how I feel about Tucker. I play nice with the rest of the cast; I genuinely like them, but Tucker is a dick. Plus, I don’t deal well with being bossed around. Eddie’s talk comes back to me.
“There are two things I don’t tolerate on my shows: drama and divas. You and Victoria put me and the rest of the crew in an awkward position. To make it easier on everyone, you are to stay away from Tucker.”
He must see the argument about to spew forth because he raises his hand to silence me.
“You slept with his girlfriend, Grant. He has the right to be pissed for a while about that. You will keep your distance and not create any more drama or I will be forced to make decisions I don’t want to make.”
Fire burns inside me at the subtle warning. He’s trying to scare me with the threat of losing my job, but I already know I’m losing it.
I let him think he wins, but I know there will be no falling in line for me. I will not stay away from Tucker and I will not play nice. If it creates drama, so be it.
I’ve created some storms since then. That day ended up bringing me some information that allowed me to interfere in Tucker’s life and Vic inadvertently gave me the means to do so.
Her frantic call to Eddie during our meeting about Tucker falling in love with some country bumpkin irritated me. I thought she was turning into a fighter, but as soon as I turned my back on her, she went running for him, for a life that was just settling for her. It made me furious.
I’m not sure why Eddie answered his phone while he was in a meeting with me. It was out of his typical, professional character. I remember him saying he was waiting for a call, but she didn’t seem to be the call he wanted. Maybe he should learn to check his caller ID. Doesn’t anyone have manners, anymore?
Her voice had cut through the room, screaming that Eddie had to save Tucker. Eddie rolled his eyes and told her to calm down. After a few minutes of her continued ranting, he finally asked her to text him the address.
Everything about that day played into my hands. Vic’s call. Eddie’s assistant coming in a few seconds later saying she needed him right away. The address Vic texted Eddie. Eddie not locking his phone. My photographic memory. All of that led to me being able to fuck with Tucker and the blame falling on Vic.
I hope it taught her a lesson about running back to the bastard.
While the show was on hiatus, I had to put up with repeated visits from Davyd. I apologized to Melanie as he instructed. It pained me to do so, but he was right. We did still need her. I was pissed to find out he had been talking with her, too. He knew I had him set up to take the fall and was, once again, a step ahead of me.
During the weeks of dealing with Davyd, I found solace in seeing the tabloid reports on Tucker and knowing I sent the paparazzi after him. It wasn’t enough that I sent him running in the first place; I thrived on knowing I sniffed him out and he was being tormented further. I wanted him broken. I wanted everyone here on the show to see that he was not a god.
And see that they did. When he came back, he was a shell of the man they knew. He would show up to the set unshaven for days. I’m not sure he even showered. His acting was subpar. For weeks, he walked around like a man haunted. The show suffered because of it. We ended up weeks behind on taping schedules because he couldn’t get his shit together, but no one would say anything because he was Eddie’s best friend. It started to piss me off. Even fucking up the show, he was above reproach.
So, I turned my attention to Victoria. The more Tucker moped, the more she acted like a wounded puppy. I was done watching that shit. Tucker never treated her like his girlfriend. He sure as hell never even treated her as his equal. She was a show off piece—a roommate that he fucked when he was horny and then left at home when he didn’t need someone pretty on his arm.
Yeah, she put up with the behavior, but it was time she stopped feeling bad about what she did. They didn’t have a relationship. It was more of an agreement. I’d be surprised if he didn’t have action on the side himself.
I started goading her every chance I got. I’d make comments about how easy it was to fool her into believing I loved her, tell her she’s a two timing whore, ask her if she’d like my dick in her again… anything to see if I could get her angry. I wanted to see her rise up and start fighting back. This little lost girl was not the Vic I saw the day she found Mel at my apartment. When she held her head high and stared me straight in the eye, defying me until I closed the door, it made me hard. I wanted to see that Vic again. I wanted to help her despite knowing we’d never be friends and that she hated me.
Some things just had to be this way.
Tucker eventually started coming out of his depression, or whatever was going on in his head, but that didn’t stop me from messing with Vic. Actually, it made me go after her harder. I had a theory to test. I’d heard that he couldn’t stand to see a woman wronged and Vic told me they were friends. She was so sure of that.
I was ready to see just how true that was.
I upped my insults. Every scene I rehearsed with her, I made sure I whispered something to her. I could feel her tense. She never said anything to anyone. She could have. I could have been fired for sexual harassment. They could have found a way to write me out or replace me with a different actor. Shows do it all the time. But she stayed quiet.
Probably to punish herself for what she did to Tucker.
And he noticed. Several times, I saw him clenching his fists, but he never made a move. Oh, how I wanted him to. What I would have given for him to throw a punch at me; to finally be able to unleash my fury at him. It’s a shame it never happened. Well…maybe it’s a good thing. I may not have been able to stop if I ever started pounding on him. I could very well have ended up in jail.
I smile to myself just thinking about hitting Tucker. I look over at him and see he’s thinking the same thing about me. I just finished a scene with Vic and I slyly asked her, “Do you miss the way I made you scream?”
It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever asked her, but it was enough. She stomped off the stage after our scene, leaving me satisfied and Tucker looking to Eddie. I hadn’t been sure whether he talked to Eddie, but now I am. And now Eddie now knows I’m not a damn pushover.
The rest of the day goes smoothly. I finish out a few more scenes and I have one more with Vic. I decide to be nice
this time. Only because Eddie reminded us all before the scene that tonight we meet our new cast member, Vic’s replacement. He rented out a restaurant and it’s mandatory for us all to be there to meet Cammie.
What the hell kind of name is that?
Sounds like a doll or something you’d name a kitten. I bet she’s petite and cute and probably blonde. I already feel the irritation at having to be there. I want to tell Vic her acting the last few weeks should have saved her job, but that bridge has burned and it needs to stay that way.
It doesn’t stop me from noticing the hurt in her eyes when our scene ends. I know she’s done for the day and has nowhere to go except home until our work dinner. She lost all of her friends over the Tucker debacle. I guess she couldn’t really call them friends. They pretended to be her friends because they wanted to get close to him. I was her only friend and I was pretend, too. The sad part is that a small part of me cares what happens to her, but I don’t want to.
Shaking my head, to rid all thoughts of Vic, I head for the exit. Time to get sexy to meet the new chick.
“Grant.”
I turn to see Eddie walking toward me. Great. What the fuck does he want?
“Are you coming to the dinner tonight?”
“You said it’s mandatory,” I say, looking at him like he’s dense.
He stares at me like he’s unsure of how to say what he’s thinking. I beat him to the punch.
“Don’t worry, Eddie. I’ll stay away from Tucker. There won’t be any problems.”
He sighs. “Cammie is a nice girl and she’s young. She’s a damn good actress, but this world is very different from the world she’s used to. I don’t want you—”
“Are you asking me to stay away from Cammie, too?” I can’t believe the balls on this guy.
“No, I’m not. I’m explaining to you that she’s a nice girl. I’ve seen the way you’ve been acting and I’m hoping it’s not a sign of how things will continue.”
I just nod and walk off. I need time to think. What the hell was that supposed to mean? What does he see?
I take extra time in the shower, letting the hot spray rain down over my tense muscles. Eddie’s words continue play over and over in my mind. Is my façade starting to crack? Or is he simply talking about how I treat Tucker?
I step from the shower and wrap a towel around my waist. Standing in front of the mirror, I give myself a once over. My time in the gym has given me good definition. I’m not overly built. From what Vic told me, I’m athletically toned. She told me that’s what ladies like. Too much muscle is gross. I went to my personal trainer after and spoke to him about this. He knew exactly what she was talking about and personalized my routine for just that. Before, I was bulking up, thinking the ladies preferred that.
Now, my six-foot-three frame is perfectly toned and sculpted. At least, that’s what Vic and Mel told me. I continue to work on it five days a week. My skin is naturally tanned, which I’m assuming comes from Mikos’ Greek heritage. Tucker is more of an olive tone than I am. Gloria says she’s French and has always had naturally tanned skin, so maybe my skin is a combination of them both. Who knows? The dark eyes could be both, too.
Looking at myself in the mirror always reminds me that I share similar features to Tucker. Shit, I share DNA with that son of a bitch. Thinking like that never ends in a good headspace.
Grabbing the blow dryer, I get to work. A few minutes later, my hair is dry. I apply some mud to it and it looks like I just ran my hand through the top and left it messy. Perfect. Now, for some hot ass clothes.
I have a “nice girl” to impress. Sorry, Eddie, but your little talk pissed me off.
Rummaging through my closet, I stop on a gray button down shirt. This is the one. It fits my mood. I pair it with some jeans. My only accessory is a Movado watch. I love those things. They’ve been a weakness of mine for years. This one is platinum with a black face to it.
Back to the mirror for a final image check. “Are you ready for me, Cammie?” I wink at my reflection and walk away.
I wave to Benny at the desk and chat with Terrence at the door while I wait for a cab. He always tells me about his kids. If he weren’t such a nice guy, I’d tell him I have no interest in hearing it, but I always listen. Terrence is one of the few people in the world I genuinely like and find myself enjoying his company. He wishes me a good night as I step into the cab and he closes the door.
I tell the driver to take me to Petey’s. I’m not sure why we do all of our work dinners there, but Eddie seems to really like the place. It’s not that the food is bad or the atmosphere. Actually, the food is great and it’s a decent place, but I’d like if we tried someplace new. Someplace a little swankier. Our show is pulling some decent rankings, it would be nice if we acted like we mattered.
A short ride later and I’m walking into Petey’s. There’s a small line of paparazzi outside. I wave and smile, allowing them to get whatever pictures they want. It’s easier to be nice than fight them off. They want to know why the cast and crew are here, but as much as I want to, I’m not going to be the one to tell. I shrug and walk in.
Grace has had all the tables moved to the sides so we’re sitting in a circle. She always does it this way, figuring we’ll want to be able to see each other. She’s sweet, but she doesn’t understand show business. We’re not family. We’d sell out the person next to us in a heartbeat if it meant we’d get a bigger, better role. We just let people think we’re close. It makes for better rankings.
I guess there are some shows where the people get close, where they don’t allow the drama and competition to become a factor, but those are few and far between. The truth is, competition and jealousy are a fact of life.
I head for the bar where I have a clear view of everyone entering. I’ll pick a seat when I see what the pecking order is. Dinner is scheduled to start in fifteen minutes. I always arrive early because it allows me time to plan depending on how people are acting.
I order a beer and wait for the party to start. A few others are early like me, but everyone else will mostly waltz in on time or fashionably late. They know there are paparazzi and they need to look their best for the cameras. I wanted to look my best for the new female entering our lives.
I can’t help but wonder what she’ll be like. Eddie has a knack for finding talent, but I wonder whether he was looking for someone who looks like Victoria or the opposite.
I don’t have to wait long. Eddie’s voice pulls me from my beer. Walking in with him must be Cammie. I can’t see her yet because his mammoth height blocks pretty much anything. He’s partially turned around, saying something to her, and I hear her laughing.
Her laugh is musical—pleasant and soothing to hear.
Seriously, Grant? Musical? Get another drink. Stress is making you have some strange ass thoughts. Laughter is just that. It doesn’t lull or soothe. Too much of it is known to give a headache.
Eddie stops and introduces her to a couple guys from the set crew who are on the other side of the room, but now she’s standing sideways so I can’t see her face. From here, I can see she’s a brunette. Not black hair like Vic, but a deep brown, and her hair falls in waves down her back. She’s not as tall as Vic either, but she’s not petite like I imagined her to be. Her body is perfect from this angle. Nice is not the word Eddie should have used to describe her. She’s smoking from what I can see.
When she turns my way, I lose the ability to breathe. The walls feel like they’re closing in on me. Blue eyes pin me in place and a smile so bright, radiates through the entire room. I can’t move, I can’t think. Fuck. I can’t do anything but stare at the wonder that is watching me.
She tilts her head, like she’s trying to figure me out, making me realize I’ve been staring at her in a daze. I mentally shake off the claustrophobia that has taken hold of me and tentatively take my first step toward her.
Our eyes stay locked—a silent battle going on between two strangers. I lose track of myself, my body,
the sensations of how it feels to move, and the sounds around me. All that matters is getting to her. That smile…I need to see it up close.
“Hi,” she says as soon as I’m within hearing range.
“Hi.” My voice comes out raspy and unsure. This is so not me. I’m never nervous with women.
“I’m Cammie.” She reaches her hand out to me. In my periphery, I see Eddie looking at me in disapproval, but he’s not stopping whatever is happening here. I’ll throttle him if he tries.
“Grant.” I take her hand in mine and for the second time in minutes, I lose my breath. Electricity sparks in the air around me. A primal need to take her away from everyone in this room fills me. I shake my head to clear the thought.
What the fuck is happening?
“It’s nice to meet you, Grant.”
Then, she smiles.
Mine!
The word filters through my brain like a CD on repeat and it freaks me out. I can’t afford this distraction right now, but I can’t bring myself to walk away either. I want to know her. Touch her. Taste her. I want every part of her to be a part of my life and I’ve never wanted that before. It’s unreasonable and I’m not used to that. Everything I do has a rhyme or reason to it, but then, she showed up and everything that was once organized has now been thrown into a tailspin.
Seeing her, my world has gone from a being a black mass to having spots of gray everywhere. No, that isn’t an apt description at all. There is nothing dreary or depressing about her. Gray would never be the correct color to describe her. I don’t know that she has a color. There’s a brightness that shines from within and explodes out through her smile, shining light wherever she looks. Light. That’s it. She’s like the sun’s ray peeking through the clouds, sprinkling beauty wherever her luminosity touches. She has splintered my darkness and made my cold heart feel warmth for the first time in years.
I have no idea what to do about that.
I do know that I’ll never be the same and I’m not sure I want to be.
