by Renee Dyer
Cammie may end up shaded by experiences that come her way in life—hell, she may be shaded from knowing me—but she will always be able to reach others because she has her inner white light. She is graced with a pure heart and anyone fortunate to spend even one minute with her and blend colors can only come out of the experience a more beautiful hue.
For a brief moment, I smile, thinking of how my life was with Cammie in it. The moment passes quickly and is followed by a pain so deep, I swear my heart is shriveling up and falling from my chest. I never should have let her into my life. I was doing better when I didn’t care about anything or anyone. I need to go back to that mentality.
My phone chirps, startling me from my thoughts. The number indicates it’s the front desk and I frown. I wasn’t expecting anyone. Instantly, my mind goes to Davyd. I’m definitely not in the right head space to deal with him. Benny is on tonight and he’s too stupid to make something up if I don’t answer. I should have called down a Do Not Disturb for the evening.
I answer and I’m relieved it’s not Davyd. I should tell Benny to send her away, but I don’t have it in me tonight. Instead, I give the okay for her to come up and I head for the door.
My head rests on the cool wood, waiting for her to knock. I’ve asked myself a dozen times why I said she could come up. I’m not ready to deal with her. Things could go very badly.
The knock comes and I sigh. It’s now or never. I get back up to open the door, but my body fights the movement. I feel like such an old man. My hand goes to the knob and as I turn it, I think one last time, this isn’t right.
Too late.
The door is open and there she is.
“Grant?”
Blonde hair assaults my eyes and anger fills my body. “Why are you here, Mel?” I can’t keep the irritation from my tone as I turn and walk away from her.
“Well, you haven’t called in a while and I thought we should talk,” she whines. I can hear her close the door behind me.
“Talk? You don’t want to talk. Let’s call a spade a spade, shall we, Mel? You are hoping our little fuck sessions will turn into us being a couple. Never gonna fucking happen. Got it?”
I know there is fire burning in my eyes and I could give two shits. I’m so damn sick of people showing up at my place, thinking they can demand shit from me.
“Grant, why are you being so crass?” Tears mist her eyes.
Oh, please. Fucking actors. I can pull out fake tears, too. If this bitch thinks I’m falling for that…
“Look. We had a deal. I give you manuscripts, we fuck, and you give them to your writers. It’s simple. When I have them, I call you. You’re basically a tool I pull out when I’m ready to use you. Is there something you need me to explain beyond that?
“But—”
“There are no buts. And don’t go crying to Davyd either. He doesn’t pull my strings. If you think crying to him is going to get you a relationship with me, you are sorely mistaken. All it will get you is never having my dick in your pussy again.”
She stands there, absorbing what I said. I wait to see if she’ll pull out more of her fake waterworks bullshit. This can go one of two ways: she cries and I throw her ass out or she relents and I get to blow my load tonight. I prefer door number two.
After a minute, she nods. I take it that means she understands. Good girl.
“I guess we agree then. Get on your knees. Tonight you’re a Hoover. All I need right now is my dick sucked.”
I wait for the tantrum or slap across the face that I’m sure is coming, but neither happen. Instead, she lowers herself to her knees and goes to work undoing my jeans.
I love when plans fall into place.
Chapter Twenty Three
Cammie
I’ve been trying to respect Grant’s decision not to talk to me, but it doesn’t make sense. I understand if he doesn’t want to cross the line and sleep with me, but to just cut me out of his life completely? I want to know why. What the hell is going on in his mind that he thinks he needs to end our entire friendship? Doesn’t he see how he’s hurting me?
Everyone else sees it.
The crew has repeatedly stopped me to ask if I’m okay. I smile and tell them I’m great, even though I feel anything but. I notice no one is asking Grant how he’s doing. It’s obvious he’s miserable. He’s snapping at everyone.
Is it bitchy of me that it makes me happy to see him a bit unhappy?
I don’t really want to see him unhappy, but I don’t want him to be over the moon that I’m out of his life, either. I did make one last ditch attempt to talk to him, but there was such devastation in his eyes, I couldn’t speak. My heart broke and when he said it was for the best, all I could do was walk away. I couldn’t even muster up a smile for his benefit. I didn’t have any happiness to share with him.
I have to perform my first intimate scene with Tucker in a little over a week and it’s the first time I’ve truly been nervous since I got here. I’d normally talk to Grant about this stuff, but his silent treatment is only adding to my unease.
So, the pacing begins.
I pace around the set, my apartment…Christ, I would pace around restaurants while I’m out to eat if it weren’t frowned upon. I need to keep moving to release the pent up energy. If I stop moving, the hurt in my heart will catch up to me.
The problem with all my excessive movement is that it attracts attention. I’m walking into Petey’s now to have dinner with Tucker and Eddie. They want to know what my problem is. They know something went down with Grant, but I’ve been stalling on telling them. How do you tell your guy friends that your other guy friend freaked out when he found out you’re a virgin…while he had his fingers inside you?
They already can’t stand Grant. All week they’ve been telling me I’m better off having him out of my life and I’ve barely kept the acidic words I want to spew from flying off my lips. I hate that they think they know who Grant is.
Grace walks me to our table in the back of the restaurant. She has us blocked from other patrons, which I appreciate. I don’t see this being a friendly dinner. Neither of them like when I stick up for Grant, but I can’t help myself. Aside from this week, he’s been there for me.
The guys are already seated and they have a root beer waiting for me. I smile at them and their attempt to cheer me up. They both stand and one at a time, wrap me in a hug. As much as it hurts to be shut out of Grant’s life, it feels good to know I still have these two. I sit down and grab the menu.
Petey’s has the best bacon cheeseburgers ever. I’m in the middle of a foodgasm when Tucker blindsides me.
“Okay, Cammie, spill it about Grant. We’ve watched you mope about the asshole all week and now Eddie and I want to know why we shouldn’t kick his ass.”
My hackles raise at him calling Grant an asshole and wanting to kick his ass. Yes, I’m pissed that he shut me out, but I understand he’s damaged. His mom broke him somehow and I hope to someday find out how. I just have to figure out how to get past his walls again.
First, I have to get him speaking to me again.
“Cammie,” Eddie prods when I sit there in silence.
“Fine,” I sigh, knowing these two will never let this go. “I put the moves on Grant. Things started getting hot and heavy and he stopped it. He asked me to leave when he realized I was a virgin. Told me I was better off without him in my life and hasn’t spoken to me since, aside from telling me it is for the best. Are you two happy now that you know how humiliated I am?”
I won’t cry. I won’t cry. I want to, though. Saying it out loud hurts so much worse than I thought it would. Grant rejected me.
“That son of a bitch put his hands on you?” Tucker hisses.
“Wh-what? That’s what you got from what I said? I like Grant. Like, really like him, and he didn’t just turn me away, he kicked me out of his life.”
“You’re better off. He was right when he said that. He was probably using you to get to me, anyway. Everyon
e on the set knows he can’t stand me. Not that anyone knows why.”
“Using me to get to you? Are you listening to yourself, Tucker? Are you saying there is no way he could have been friends with me because I’m worth being friends with?” My voice is rising, but I can’t help it. What is with the damn men around here?
“Of course he’s not,” Eddie says as he runs his hand over my arm in a soothing gesture.
I rip my arm away from him, not wanting his comfort. I’m pissed and the last thing I want is to be patronized by someone who can’t even take off his fucking hat and shades to look me in the eye. This is bullshit.
“You two don’t know Grant.”
“And you think you do?” Tucker fires back.
“Actually, I was learning a lot. I learned that his mother broke him down somehow. I was getting through the wall he built up to keep himself from getting too close to anyone because she somehow made him feel like everyone will hurt him. You all see an asshole when you look at him. I see a man praying someone will see more in him and give him a chance. I’m willing to give him that chance. He just needs a damn friend. Someone who will care enough to show him not everyone means to cause him pain.”
“Christ, Cammie, he has you fooled. Did you see what he did to Victoria?”
“What about what you did to Victoria?” I lash out before I can stop myself.
Tucker and Eddie both sit up straighter and stare at me as if they don’t know the person sitting in front of them. Maybe they don’t. They look at me like I’m the sweet little sister they never had. They want to protect me. I guess I let them because I never had a big brother, but the truth is…I don’t need to be protected. I’m not afraid to stand up and speak my mind.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tucker asks, his voice laced with anger.
What? He can throw insults at me, but when the shoes on the other foot, he acts offended? Bullshit.
“People talk.”
“You mean Grant filled your head with lies about me.”
If he thinks calling me out like this will make me back down, he has another thing coming. He’s just firing me up even more. “Yeah, Grant told me some things, but I talk to a lot more people than just him, so maybe you should stop assuming. You know what they say about that.” I watch his face get tighter and Eddie fidgets beside him. Good, I have their attention now.
“It’s common knowledge that you and Victoria, or should I say Vic, as you so “lovingly” called her were the ideal couple when you had to be in the public eye. She was always dressed to the nines to match you and never left your side, but if there weren’t cameras snapping in your faces, she looked sad. She was extremely bitchy to everyone and you, Mr. Superstar To The Crew, just allowed that. I call bullshit. There’s no way you were just allowing your girlfriend to step all over the crew unless you simply didn’t care what she was doing. I see how you are now with Adriana. Can you honestly tell me you put even one-one-hundredth of that amount of effort into your relationship with Victoria?”
His eyes can’t meet mine. I guess the table has suddenly become fascinating.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. And, you were with her for almost two years. How long have you known Adriana?”
“That’s different. Adriana isn’t sleeping with another man,” he growls at me.
“Why do you think she needed another man, Tucker? Did you ever stop to think about that? I’m not trying to pick a fight, but I’m telling you this because I need you…you and Eddie to understand something. Grant has been the best friend I’ve had since I got here. You may all see a piece of shit when you look at him, but with me, he’s not that. He’s fun and caring and he would have done anything to make me happy. I bet he was that way for Victoria, too. You shouldn’t judge what you don’t know.”
Tucker opens his mouth to say something, but Eddie puts his hand on his arm, stopping whatever he would have said. I’m grateful for him stepping in.
“I trust your opinion, Cammie. I have to be honest and tell you I don’t trust Grant, but if you say he’s not a bad guy with you, then all I can do is step back and hope you’re right. Know this, though, if you become friends again and he hurts you, you will not stop me from beating his ass into the ground. I can guarantee that warning goes for Tucker, too.”
Eddie gives me the eye and then looks at Tucker. Tucker nods at him and looks at me. I nod at both of them. An unspoken agreement goes around that we’ll all agree to disagree about Grant, but at least they’re realizing I need to make my own decisions about him.
“I’m sorry if I was harsh on you about Victoria,” I say, feeling embarrassed for publicly starting an argument with my friend.
“Don’t sweat it. You know what they say. Truth hurts. Your burger is getting cold.” Tucker smiles at me and I know we’re going to move past this whole night.
I grab my burger, take a bite, and decide tomorrow is the day I start to figure out how to help Grant feel like he can be my friend again. Sitting here with these two guys, I know, in my heart, I need to give Grant this feeling of peace and happiness, too.
Chapter Twenty Four
Grant
“Hey, baby.”
“Why are you calling?” I ask in a low, controlled voice.
“Your birthday is next month.” I hear the hesitation in her voice.
“And?”
Again, there’s hesitation and I smile.
“I-I was thinking maybe it would be enough time for you to request time off from work so you can come home to celebrate.”
“Why would I do that?”
“I miss you. It’s been so long since you’ve been home.”
Is this how she wants to play the game tonight? Guilt me? You have to have a conscience for that to work and I threw mine out a long time ago.
“That’s because you’re a whore and you betrayed me.”
“Grant, please,” she begs. “Can’t we get passed this already? What will it take for you to forgive me?”
“Give me one good reason why I should do that. Just one and I’ll consider what you’re asking.”
Her excitement is evident through the line and I smirk. So easily manipulated.
“I’m your mother and I’m sorry.”
“You’re no mother, Gloria, not to me or anyone else. You’re a selfish slut who drugged and took advantage of men to invent the life you wanted. I’m just the byproduct of your schemes. You let one man believe he was my father and kept me from the man who was, all so you could have what you wanted. That’s not a mother.”
I don’t raise my voice. I never do. My voice is cool and detached—exactly how I feel about her. I allow the iciness to slip past my lips and the shards to fly through the lines to make a direct hit into her heart. People might think after all these years that I take her weekly calls because I hold onto some kind of love for her, but the truth is…I answer because I live to hear the defeat in her voice. Hearing her cry and knowing I still don’t forgive her is music to my ears.
“How can you be so cruel?”
“That’s rich coming from you,” I chide.
“Have you spoken to your brother yet?” she asks. She’s never asked this before.
“I don’t have a brother. I have no family. You made sure of that.”
“I’m sorry,” she cries out, the sobs beginning to take over her words.
Peace washes over me at hearing the only thing I want to hear from her—pain. She deserves no forgiveness or comfort from me.
“Someday you’ll learn to stop calling me.”
I hang up with the sound of her sniffling in my ear. Pure heaven. I head for my kitchen and grab a beer to celebrate another night of breaking her down.
It’s amazing how calm I feel after I talk to her, how her tears bring me such serenity. I know I should feel some kind of remorse for hurting her for all these years, but I feel nothing but happiness each and every time I twist the knife in a little deeper. Maybe one of these days she’ll finally start to unde
rstand the magnitude of hatred I feel for her.
There’s no coming back from it.
The next morning, I swagger into work, feeling refreshed from my beat down of Gloria and ready to tackle the day. It’s Friday bitches and we have the rest of the weekend off. I have some Tucker intel to gather. My slacking days are over. It’s time to flush Cammie from my system and get back on track.
Grant is in the building.
“Why do you look so happy?”
“What are you doing, Cammie?” I’m not mean to her, but I’m not nice, either. Monotone has become my new normal with her. I’m professionally neutral, so no one can say I’m rude.
“I’m talking to my friend,” she says cheerily, like nothing has gone south with us.
“We’re not friends anymore,” I retort, and walk away.
“You told me you’d be here for me anytime I need you. I need you now.”
Her words stop me dead in my tracks. I said them when she was crying the night of her party and I meant them then. I didn’t expect things to go wrong so fast. I thought I had more time—time for her to realize I’m the villain in our story. I turn and allow my eyes to plead with her when I say, “You have Tucker and Eddie to be there for you now.”
I turn back around and before I can take a step, I hear, “They aren’t my bestie. You are.”
Why is she doing this to me?
“I have nothing to offer you, Cammie.”
“Yes, you do. More than you understand. I have to do my first sex scene with Tucker on Monday in front of everyone. I’m not ready to have the crew see me barely dressed. I thought I was okay with this, but I’m not. I planned on being able to talk to you to get myself prepared, but I haven’t had you. I need you to walk me through this.”
I keep my back to her and let the pain wash through my system. Pain caused by picturing my brother, the man I hate with every fiber of my being, touching the one person I’ve allowed myself to care about. I want to lash out at her and tell her that she’s killing me, causing me to become someone I don’t recognize. I want to scream that her words are like knives shredding my already damaged heart, but I can’t do it. I can’t tell her what she’s doing to me because I can’t let her into my world.
