The Broken Canvas

by Tai Barnett

  “Of course, we will do anything for you, Author! But Natasha dear, it’s all fun and games love. No need to be offended. Relax a little—” said David.

  “Relax? Well, I am most certainly relaxed. Do I look excited or agitated at all to any of you?”

  The guys started looking around at each other with brows knitted and shoulders up as if to be suggesting that I was anything other than calm.

  “I would just appreciate if you would all just act like professionals—”

  The guys all started chuckling again.

  “Come on now guys, cut it out! Miss Bishop here is correct, we need to stop fooling around and start acting like professionals—author, no need to worry. If it makes Miss Bishop happy, then we promise to behave,” Brody exclaimed while staring at me.

  I could tell that I wasn’t his most favorite person right now and that he found me annoying.

  “Is that better Miss Bishop?” Brody said staring at me with a slight smirk.

  “Well, that’s wonderful news. Thank you all.” I hurriedly walked back to my seat.

  “OK, quiet on the set please! It’s almost time to begin shooting!” Author shouted.

  We finished shooting a couple hours later which was around 2:45 am that morning. Tired and exhausted, my driver called me to say that he had a minor accident and he didn’t know how long he was going to take before he got there.

  It was quiet and getting late because most had already left the set. Luckily, Ted and Susan had noticed that something was wrong.

  After I finished explaining that my ride had an accident, I saw Brody pass by us with his black travel bag over his shoulder.

  “Good night guys. See you tomorrow—” Brody said.

  “But you’re staying at the Hilton too—right, Brody?” Susan yelled.

  “We are staying like 20 minutes further than you so…instead of calling a limo, why doesn’t Brody just give you a lift Natasha?” Ted said.

  Brody turned and looked at us with his eyes wide open.

  “Her ride got into an accident, so she is left stranded and prefers not to call a cab or limo at this time of night,” Susan explained.

  The expression on his face was as if he was wondering why he didn’t leave earlier.

  “Sure. I will be making a short stop though,” Brody said.

  I was tired, and I just wanted to leave so I agreed.

  “OK, not a problem. Thanks. Night, guys and thanks!” I said.

  “Brody take care of her,” Ted said.

  Brody looked at me and smiled.

  “Don’t worry! She’s in good hands!” Brody yelled while walking to the parking lot.

  We drove for about ten minutes into a more remote area that was surrounded by plush trees and hills. The ride was tense and uncomfortable. He sped for no reason and completely ignored me without even trying to make any form of conversation. I pretty much did the same because I wanted him to just make his stop and to take me back to my hotel.

  A few minutes later, he drove into a big mansion with loud music and a plethora of ‘extortionate’ type cars parked at the front of the house. I sat frozen in the front seat while he came out, stood for a while looking at what I was doing. He grumbled to himself.

  “Aren’t you coming?” he said while bending down and looking at me into the passenger seat.

  “Well, OK. But just for a little while, I assume your stop won’t be very long right?”

  But Brody didn’t answer and just kept on walking toward the house.

  As we walked towards the front door the music grew louder.

  “What is this?” I asked

  “The production designer invited us to an after party, surprised you didn’t hear about it,” Brody yelled sarcastically while he tried to speak loudly enough over the ear-splitting rap music in the back.

  “Ohh, Richard! Well, yes I heard but—”

  “Ohh, this is just not your type of thing,” Brody said while he opened the front door for me.

  “You’re right. Actually, right now I just want to go to my hotel room have a bath and go to bed.”

  I walked passed him.

  We greeted a few people, but I quickly diverted from the crowd and sat on one of the modern styled designed pool chairs around the extravagant rectangular pool.

  It was almost 3:30am by now and I was becoming impatient. I looked through the rowdy crowd and saw Brody and a couple of the guys fooling around—again. I walked over to him anxiously.

  “Ahh, surprised to see you here, Natasha! What a most wonderful surprise. But isn’t it past your bed-time love?” David said chuckling.

  “Very funny, David. But as a matter of fact, yes. I would like to leave now. Brody, can you please take me to the hotel?”

  Brody looked at me and shook his head yes. And it was at that point that I spotted the younger Brunette standing beneath his arms with her body snuggly caressing his side.

  It was obvious that they all had been drinking and were a bit tipsy.

  “OK, guys, Miss Bishop here has had enough partying for the night and I must take her home now—or else!” Brody exclaimed sarcastically.

  Rolling my eyes while walking away, I grabbed my purse and started heading towards the parking lot. When I looked back over my shoulders, I saw the Brunette by Brody’s side laughing and giggling and him whispering something, very nasty and disgusting I bet, into her ear.

  I stood with my arms folded because it was cold, and I was pissed, as they tentatively walked towards the car still chuckling and snickering.

  “Honey, why don’t you come up front with me I am sure Miss Bishop won’t mind!” Brody exclaimed in his rough and husky voice that I was hating more and more by the minute.

  “Oh, of course not. Go right on ahead dear.” I said.

  I eagerly opened the back door and got in.

  I was glad to give them both their own space. I just hoped we made it back to the hotel safely with him being tipsy while she is so vulgarly distracting him with her four inches long short skirt and many wild and off-putting kisses.

  When we finally made it into the hotel entrance, I spotted them inside of the elevator. I slowed down because the only thing left for me to see was for them to have sex right in front of me. They needed to get to the room soon because she almost stripped off her clothes and I had had about enough Brody Banister for the night.

  It’s a Wrap

  Author introduced Oscar and his wife Carol to me on set. We quickly hit it off like we had known each other for years. Oscar was a like a grandee with a gentle voice and elegant presence. He treated his wife like a royal queen, and she was very graceful and appreciative of his many gestures to take care of her, something that she was obviously used to. His concern, respect, and regard toward her reminded me so much of Andrew. Can you imagine how surprised I was to learn that he was Brody’s publicist?

  “It’s been three years since we’ve been back home but, you must go to Peru, you could stay at my house and quite possibly, even check out the properties there.” said Oscar.

  “Oh, that sounds so wonderful. But you know, being that I am here in England I have always wanted to see Scotland. I have always wanted to go there and see what kind of real estate they have to offer.”

  “Scotland? Why Scotland, dear? Have you been there or have relatives there?” said Carol.

  “Actually, no—it sounds weird I know. But I have seen pictures and watched so many travel videos, it just seems like somewhere that I would want to visit.”

  “So, when do you plan on leaving?” Carol asked.

  “Well, right after we are done here, I booked my flight and everything.”

  “Well, if you’re that serious, you know…Brody visits his home right about this time of the year. I am sure he would be more than pleased to be your personal tour guide. It’s much better visiting a foreign country when you have a native showing you the ins and outs and even better, because you guys already have a working relationship on set for so long. Here he come
s, by the way. Brody! Brody!” Oscar yelled as he saw Brody walking toward his trailer.

  “Oh no, that’s quite all right Oscar.”

  I was trying to stop Oscar, but he was already too excited.

  As Brody approached us, he gave me a cold stare as he slightly bowed his head to me to say hello.

  “I thought you guys had left already?” Brody said.

  “Carol and I were just telling Miss Bishop here that you travel back home to Scotland around this time…and that you would be more than pleased to be her personal tour guide when she visits in a few days.”

  “Ohh really? So, you’re visiting Scotland?” Brody said, his eyes pierced mine with an intimidating, almost, jeering expression.

  “Yes, well, as I am already here in England and I always wanted to buy property in Scotland, I booked my flight for next week.”

  “How wonderful it will be having someone friendly and familiar to show her around town,” Carol said.

  Brody remained silent as though he was absorbing my essence—trying to feel somehow, what I was all about. Lord only knew why.

  “Ah, well, I am sure that Brody has other things to do on his trip,” I said.

  I was trying very kindly to get out of this punishment that Oscar was unknowingly—certainly innocently shoving me into.

  Brody looked at me and gave a very enormous, disturbing, and uncomfortable smile. The only thing I would be worth comparing it to would be the Grinch’s—right before he stole Christmas from the joyful Folks of Whoville.

  “Hmmm…well, I would be more than pleased to show you around Scotland, Miss Bishop. Just tell me when your flight lands and I will come and pick you up from the airport.”

  Oh, Bloody Hell! I thought to myself while nodding my head yes and smiling simultaneously.

  “Well…that’s just…ohh so sweet. I am so…thank you Brody,” Brody was enjoying my discomfort and forced display of appreciation for Oscar’s suggestions.

  “Just lovely. Well, that’s sorted out then. Please Natasha, you have my number. Please do keep in touch and tell us how your trip turns out. We have to get going before we miss this flight,” Oscar said.

  “Oh, I will certainly do that.”

  ***

  After what happened when Brody took me to the hotel a few weeks prior, I wasn’t certain I wanted him to be my escort on my vacation. But I was already there and already booked my flight. I figured I’d give it a shot and as soon as he started acting like a dick, I would call Lauren to book an earlier flight back to Atlanta.

  The following week, the flight into Edinburg was a bit bumpy nonetheless otherwise short and agreeable. But what began as a lovely day…and finally being here in the land of 18th century castles and ‘Nessie’ turned out to be an exasperating delay and found me standing alone at an airport in a foreign country. Brody was almost two hours late. Luckily, I was not known much in England.

  Brody drove up with a pleasant and slender lady with shoulder length dark brown hair. She was sitting in the front seat of his vehicle with a very warm smile on her face. He quickly jumped out of the car and started taking up my luggage.

  “Sorry about being late, but I had to take my mother for her regular doctor’s check-up and the time kind of got away from us,” he explained.

  I sighed deeply and smiled all the same.

  “That’s OK, I understand.”

  He opened the back door of the black SUV for me and quickly ran around to the driver’s side. While fastening his seat belt, he then introduced his passenger as his mother and looked through the rear-view mirror at the cars behind.

  “Oh mother, I would like to formerly introduce Miss Natasha Bishop. She is a very talented screen-writer, we worked together on the film that we just finished in England—the young lady that I am showing around Scotland.”

  I was stunned, at first, to learn that Brody thought that I was talented. Brody’s mother turned and looked back at me.

  “Oh, hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you dear. I hear you’re looking to buy property in Scotland?” Mrs. Banister said. Her voice was mellow and kind. Her face wise and flawless.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Banister. Yes well, I always had a dream to visit Scotland…have no idea why.”

  I took a deep breath without anyone hearing. I was considering that this was feeling a bit scratchy and why was I in the back of Brody’s car talking to his mother. I wanted to tell him to take me to the hotel because I didn’t want to impose but at this point, how could I?

  As I glanced at him from behind the passenger seat, to see his reaction around his mother, I unexpectedly saw him looking at me in the rear-view mirror. Then our eyes clashed and we both quickly looked away.

  “Yes, well, my Brody here will make for an excellent tour guide, I never could keep him home when he was a lad. He knows all the fun and exciting places and the premiere real estate that a lady like you would be interested in.”

  “Brody, why don’t we stop by the market first before you take her to the hotel? Show Natasha here, what the Scotland market is like.”

  “Are you sure that you’re feeling better, Mom? You’re not dizzy anymore?” Brody said while pulling out of the pickup ramp.

  “Ohh, I am an old horse. I am diabetic and hypertensive dear. Brody gets a bit over-protective of me sometimes,” Mrs. Banister said.

  “Well, so is my dad but he just can’t seem to stay away from all his Jamaican food.”

  “Oh, Jamaica. You’re Jamaican, dear? Brody forgot to mention that.”

  “Well, I was born there but grew up in the States.”

  “Ohh, I absolutely love Jamaican food…and so does Brody here!”

  I was finding out all kinds of interesting things about Brody now. That he was obviously a mama’s boy and that he was gentler and even humbler around his mother.

  “Well, if I had a personal kitchen at that hotel, I would make you some before I leave but—”

  “Why that would be just lovely, dear. A matter of fact—Brody dear, why don’t you just take me home before you take Miss Bishop here to her hotel. Come to think of it, honey, I am starting to feel a bit woozy all of a sudden. Ohh, I hope you don’t mind too much dearie.”

  “Ohh, certainly not, Mrs. Banister.”

  “As a matter of fact, I don’t know why Brody didn’t just tell you to stay at our home for your remaining time here. We have more than plenty of space in the guestroom,” Mrs. Banister said.

  Brody looked at his mother with a stare suggesting if she really wanted to do that. Yet, his mother continued.

  “Mother, well she has already made her plans.”

  “Yes, well I think if Natasha is going to spend the next two or three weeks in Scotland—how long are you staying again?” She said looking back at me.

  “Three weeks—”

  “Yes, three weeks here in Scotland. We might as well let her feel like family. She should be spending time with us instead. Would you mind dear?”

  Did I ever mention that I am sometimes a bit of a people pleaser? I was boiling up inside and wondering why this lovely generous woman wanted me to stay at her home…with her son—with her son, who was the very infuriating Brody Banister.

  “Well, if it’s alright with Brody and the rest of your family then…”

  “Well, that’s just lovely, tomorrow you can make some of that lovely Jamaican food. Mr. Banister and Martin will love that. And then you can go into the Old Town and the West End, if you would like. There will be plenty of things to do. Brody can even take you to Benny’s to introduce you to a few of his crazy friends, then you will truly experience the Scottish life.”

  Being so as it was, I called the hotel and cancelled my stay there. But now I was thinking how torturous it was going to be living under the same roof and seeing Brody’s face day after day, and it was not contractually agreed upon.

  The Taming of the Banister

  It seemed the age-old adage that the way to man’s heart is through his stomach was a b
latant and barefaced lie told by over-zealous wives, because Brody was being the same old snarling and inscrutable asshole when we woke up the next morning.

  His childhood home in Colinton reminded me of my home back in Atlanta. It was modern and stylish, yet homely and full of plants and green grasses. It was an enchanting Georgian styled cottage with five bedrooms, four bathrooms and 1.2 acres of land and flowering florae at the back and a lush green garden at the front with a birdhouse.

  The kitchen was cozy and warm, and beautifully decorated in soft celery green and white, blond wood and a solid granite island and countertop. Though still an elaborate family kitchen, it had rustic accents but with all the top-rated gadgets and kitchen equipment and a centerpiece hanging rectangular chandelier that was surrounded by scattered recess lighting.

  The granite island counter-top was a gigantic seven feet with drawers matching the cupboards with wooden knobs, an installed wine cooler. On the opposite side, a plethora of cookbooks on the top shelve and canister preserve on the lower. There were seven bar stools and a lovely arrangement of fresh herbs at one end and White Oriental Lilies complemented with green foliage in a glass vase at the other.

  I made a delectable Jamaican breakfast of fried dumplings and stir-fried cabbage and codfish. Everyone including Mr. Banister and Martin (who were living with them at the time) finished their breakfast. Although, Martin didn’t quite care for the taste of Codfish.

  For the most part everyone was pleasant, while trying to get to know me. As they all spoke, I stared at Brody quietly eating and listening to everyone. He was acting rather strange, even a bit uncomfortable.

  “You know what you must have her try the next time that you take Natasha to the market Brody? Bramble jelly. It’s absolutely tasty Natasha. You would love it,” Mr. Banister said.

  Brody nodded his head at his father.

  “What are Brambles?”

  “Oh, it’s just Scottish blackberries dear,” Mrs. Banister said while busily finishing up her breakfast.

  “Father loves Brambles,” Martin said with a sarcastic smirk.

  I looked at Brody once more while he stared at everyone. As I patted my mouth with my hand towel and started clearing the table, Mr. Banister stood right along with me and clutched the dishes from my hands.