“I don’t know if I’m in the mood for shopping today.” Jasmine shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “Obviously, whatever made you want to come downtown is no longer holding your interest.”
“I’m sorry, Jasmine.” I closed my eyes for a moment. “I’m just not good company these days.”
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s get a drink.” Jasmine motioned to a bar across the street.
“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” I nodded and looked for a break in traffic so we could cross the road.
Jasmine had been the best friend I could have ever asked for since things ended with Lauren. She gave me space to work through things on my own, but she always grabbed my hand before I fell into the darkness. Coming to terms with my mistakes had been hard. I was finally able to admit to myself, the person who actually needed to hear it, that my entire philosophy was bullshit. I wasn’t an actor who got absorbed with a part and let it take over my life. I was the man underneath it all the entire time. I just used Jamison Thorn as a mask that I wore to the masquerade of life. I could have taken that mask off anytime that I wanted, but I chose not to do it. It was easier to pretend someone else was doing all of the awful shit that put me where I was instead of accepting that I was the fool all along.
They say knowledge is power, but in my case—knowledge is nothing more than a bitter pill to swallow.
* * *
Two days later
“Okay, gather round people.” Jacob motioned for the cast and crew to join him before we started filming on Monday.
“Hopefully this isn’t another script rewrite. I actually spent time going over my lines yesterday.” Jasmine sighed when she walked up beside me. “I know you did the same—overachiever.”
“I glanced at them.” I shrugged. “Jamison Thorn had crashed so many weddings that I have the speech memorized by now.”
After Jacob decided not to kill of Jamison Thorn, we were back to the same repeated storylines that had been driving the ratings down for years. There was no originality left in Dangerous Thorns. Twenty years was a very long time and the family trees were so complicated that I couldn’t even keep track of them anymore. Truthfully, I had just lost my desire to keep going. My scenes lacked emotion. My character work was nonexistent. I simply didn’t care anymore. I never thought I would become that kind of actor. I thought I had too much respect for the character I played and the show that made me famous to give it anything less than my best. I hated feeling like a failure, but it wasn’t my failure as an actor that bothered me—it was the fact that I failed at life entirely.
I’m sure I’ll shake this feeling eventually, but today isn’t the day—not after seeing Lauren again.
* * *
Two days later
“Walker, do you have a minute?” Jacob tapped on my dressing room door and pushed it open.
“Sure, come on it.” I nodded and motioned to him. “I’m just sitting here trying to figure out why you rewrote the script for today’s episode.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He sat down across from me. “We might be going a different direction with the Bianca storyline.”
“You’ve pretty much went in every direction possible already.” I raised an eyebrow. “First she’s with Dean, then she cheats on him with me, then she returns to Dean—now she doesn’t know what the fuck she wants.”
“We’ve run into a slight complication. I know Sally wants to tell everyone herself—so pretend to be surprised when she announces it—but she’s pregnant.” A slight smile formed on the edge of his lips. “Which means we’re going to have to carry that over to her character.”
“Christ…” I exhaled sharply, but it wasn’t because I was shocked she was pregnant—I just remembered what she offered to do in order to get a part in Spark 7.
“I didn’t realize Sally was serious with anyone right now.” I looked down at the script.
“She likes to keep her personal life away from the set, but I think she’s been engaged for a couple of years.” Jacob shrugged. “This is Hollywood though—everyone is going to hope there’s a scandal.”
Thankfully I don’t have to worry about being a part of it if there is one…
“I guess that means we can look forward to nine months of baby drama?” I closed the script and put it down in front of me. “Then in a few years, the kid will suddenly pop up as a teenager?”
“Probably so.” Jacob chuckled. “The suits already have a few actresses in mind—they’re pushing for it to be a girl.”
“Why tell me all of this?” I tilted my head slightly. “We’ve done plenty of storylines with baby drama.”
“I left something out of the script, and I didn’t want you to be blindsided. Sally is going to tell everyone before we start filming, and we’re going to cliffhanger our episode today with Jamison finding a pregnancy test in the trash can.” Jacob leaned forward and started to stand. “Obviously, this will require a little emotion on your part since Jamison will immediately realize the kid could be his.”
“Alright, I appreciate it.” I leaned back and nodded.
I guess he’s noticed that my scenes have been lacking emotion lately. He wasn’t doing me a favor—he was just using this as an opportunity to say it without actually confronting me.
I filmed the scene and did my best to show that Jamison might give a fuck about Bianca’s pregnancy. It was another retreaded scene. We literally did this exact same thing when another actress got pregnant and we were forced to incorporate the baby into the show. If an actress was unimportant, they would hide it and take the character off Dangerous Thorns once her baby bump started to show. Bianca was too wrapped up in our main storylines for that to happen, plus soap operas loved drama. In fact, she might just deliver the baby before sweeps and the paternity storyline would be what carried us through it. When I got back to my dressing room, I found a note on my chair—from Vincent Edwards. It was a request to come to his office as soon as filming was done.
What the fuck? Does he want to give me shit too?
It was rare for us to get a visit from the suits at the studio and even rarer for one of them to call us to their office. Usually that only happened when we were playing hardball when it was time to negotiate a new contract, but he would have set a meeting up through my agent if that was the case. Plus, it would be months before they even started to talk about a new contract. I wasn’t sure how that discussion was going to go. I was in a position to renegotiate a new one for less money when Jacob said he was going to kill off Jamison Thorn, but my motivation had changed drastically since then. The show was all I really had left, so I didn’t know if I would be able to just walk away—but I didn’t think I was going to let them lowball me either.
* * *
“I’m here to see Mr. Edwards.” I walked up to the receptionist’s desk once I made the trek from the studio where we filmed to the office building across the parking lot.
“Ah yes, he’s expecting you.” She looked up at me and smiled. “You can go on in.”
“Mr. Edwards?” I gave his door a slight knock as I pushed it open.
“Walker, thank you for coming to see me—I’m sorry it was on short notice.” He stood up immediately. “Have a seat. Would you like a drink?”
A drink? He normally doesn’t try to butter me up unless he’s trying to lock me into a new deal—and he knows not to do that without my agent.
“Sure, why not?” I walked into his office and sat down, but I was still feeling a bit apprehensive.
“You’re a whiskey man, right?” He picked up a bottle and motioned to it.
“I am.” I nodded quickly.
Lucky guess or did he actually remember that from one of our previous meetings?
“I’ll cut to the chase. I’m not one for beating around the bush.” He poured two drinks and put one of them down in front of me. “I’d like to talk with you about a new opportunity that has presented itself.”
“A new opportunity?�
�� I tilted my head slightly. “If you’re wanting me to film one of your made-for-TV movies, I’m not interested—I’ve turned all of those down.”
It doesn’t stop them from asking every couple of years, so maybe they’ve forgotten where I told them to shove the last manuscript they asked me to read.
“No, that’s not it.” He shook his head back and forth. “I had a meeting earlier with Jasmine. It’s time to renegotiate her contract—you know how that goes.”
“Yes.” I shrugged. “That doesn’t have anything to do with me though. I’ve got a few more months before we sit down to discuss it—and I’ll want to have my agent present.”
“Of course, absolutely. We’ll call your agent if this new opportunity is something you’re interested in.” He lifted his glass of whiskey to his lips.
“Okay.” I took a drink of my whiskey. “I’m intrigued—out with it.”
“We want to hire a creative consultant for the Dangerous Thorns. Jacob is a talented writer and he’s been with us for a long time, but he’s so busy managing the writing team that…” Mr. Edwards seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “Let’s just say that his creativity has been stalled out for some time.”
“He wrote a pretty good storyline recently—then you decided not to let him kill me off.” I narrowed my eyes.
“Don’t get me wrong, when it’s time to deliver a story for sweeps, he’s the guy you want writing it—but outside of that, there’s not much happening. Ratings are down and the fans are saying the same thing that our test audiences are saying—they’ve seen this before.” Mr. Edwards sighed and took another sip of his whiskey. “We need something new and not just a ratings grab like killing of Jamison Thorn—we need storylines that are innovative.”
“I don’t disagree with that.” I nodded. “But isn’t this a conversation for Jacob? I’m sure he could find some new writers—hell, he was a young writer once looking for work.”
“Yes, he was—but there aren’t that many young writers with fresh ideas looking for a job writing soaps. They all want to make it big with a movie. They’ll go home with their tails between their legs before they’ll settle for anything less.” He shrugged. “I don’t think we need new writers; I just think we need someone to act as a creative consultant—someone who knows the history of Dangerous Thorns and has a certain level of passion for it.”
“That wouldn’t be a bad idea.” I shrugged. “But again—isn’t this a conversation you should be having with Jacob?”
“I’ve already had this conversation with Jacob. I also had a similar conversation with Jasmine. She told me that you’re brimming with ideas—which is why I’m now having the conversation with you.” He leaned forward. “I think it’s time I heard a few of them.”
“Really?” I blinked in surprise. “I’ve pitched a few to Jacob over the years, but they’ve been ignored…”
“Maybe you’ve been pitching them to the wrong person.” He lifted his drink and took a sip.
I hated to trash Jacob’s ideas in front of someone who was essentially his boss, but it was an opportunity for me to pitch some of my own. Jacob wasn’t one of the original writers for Dangerous Thorns, but the main ones that started with us had moved on to bigger projects once they got a little bit of notoriety. Jacob had been brilliant when he arrived, but all of us had noticed that the shimmer wore off after several years. He was treading water because he was too busy to do anything else. I did have some ideas—and there were a few dangling parts of the story that we never truly resolved. I laid out my thoughts about the show, a few directions that I thought it should take, and by the end of the conversation, I could tell that Mr. Edwards was impressed by what I had to say.
“Jasmine was right. You do have some very interesting ideas.” Mr. Edwards nodded. “I think they have merit—in fact, I think this could be what we’re missing.”
“I’ve lived and breathed Dangerous Thorns for the last twenty years.” I shrugged and sighed. “Often to my detriment.”
“I think we should continue this conversation.” He lifted his drink to his lips and took a sip. “But we should have your agent present—since we’ll be discussing money.”
“That sound like a good idea.” I took a drink and smirked. “I wouldn’t want to give you too many of my ideas for free.”
I felt a little better about my situation after I shook hands with Mr. Edwards and walked to my car, but then the gloom began to settle on me again. Being able to take on a creative consultant role for the soap opera I helped build would be a lot more inspiring than watching the ratings sink while we tried to strike gold with the same tired storylines, but it wasn’t what I was missing from my life. My heart still belonged to the raven-haired beauty that had been mine for a brief moment—a brief moment that could have lasted so much longer if I would have seized control of my life instead of living in an illusion of my own creation.
I don’t deserve her, but I have to try—the world isn’t as complicated as I tried to make it, and each day I spend without her is more agonizing than the one before it.
I thought about a lot as I drove home. I was in a dark place when I met Lauren and she became the light that gave me hope. That hope was shattered when I found out Jamison Thorn wasn’t going to die. It was my cowardice running from the fear of watching another relationship smolder out. Instead of trying to see if things could be different, I broke what we had into a million pieces. I gave my life to Dangerous Thorns, and never missed a single day except for the few times I had to get my twin brother to step in and pretend to be me in the background of a scene because I was sick or on my honeymoon—hell, I didn’t even take one of those until my third marriage. It was time for me to get my priorities straight and a new job wasn’t what really mattered—what mattered most of all was Lauren.
Jamison Thorn didn’t ruin anything. I did. I just hope I haven’t come to terms with that too late to save the best thing that ever happened to me.
16
Lauren
“Men are fucking scumbags!” Madeleine stormed into our apartment and slammed the door so hard that it sounded like a cannon had been fired inside our walls.
“Whoa, what happened?” I looked up at her in confusion. “I thought you were meeting Chad after school.”
“That was the plan, but the bastard never showed up.” She sat down on the couch and folded her arms across her chest. “I decided to stop by his apartment—and guess what? He wasn’t alone.”
“Oh shit…” I scooted closer and put my hand on hers. “I’m sorry, Madeleine.”
“It’s fine.” She waved off my concern. “I should have known better. We never said we were exclusive—something he reminded me of after I kicked him in the nuts.”
“You—didn’t…” My eyes opened wide.
“He’s lucky she was there, or I might have cut the damn thing off.” Madeleine’s jaw tensed. “Do we have any wine? I need a whole damn bottle tonight.”
“Yeah, I picked some up.” I leaned forward and started to stand. “I’ll go get it.”
Deep down, I never expected Madeleine’s relationship with Chad to last. I don’t think she really did either. She was too focused on having the ultimate college experience, and a boyfriend didn’t really mesh with those plans. I understood the pain of losing someone though, because I had gone through that myself. My relationship with Walker might not have ended with a swift kick to the nether region, but it did feel like someone punched me in the stomach when I realized it was over. Madeleine and I commiserated over a bottle of wine—and then we opened a second one to finish drowning the heartache.
“Oh…” Madeleine leaned forward and almost fell off the couch as she reached for her books. “I found this earlier today—someone is looking for a writer.”
“A writer?” I took a sip of my wine.
“Yeah, I’ve been looking at some job listings since I’m not going home this summer…” Her words slurred as she shifted her books and produced a piece of paper.
“I printed this out for you.”
“It’s for a sports agency...” I tilted my head as I tried to focus on the paper—I was definitely feeling the wine too. “I don’t think I could do this. They want someone to do press releases for them. I just write articles.”
“It pays actual money.” She leaned forward and tapped the bottom of the paper. “See right there—salary negotiable.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” I put the paper down on the coffee table. “I think it’s about time for us to call it a night.”
“No way.” Madeleine emptied her glass into her mouth and reached for the bottle of wine. “We’re finishing this!”
I honored Madeleine’s request—which was actually more of an order. We finished the second bottle of wine and were both buzzing like hornets when we went to bed. I definitely was—and she had more than me, so I had to assume she was in the same state. I had never been that drunk before. I could already tell that I was going to wake up with a hangover. I had a hint of one after a couple of glasses, so sharing two bottles with Madeleine was a recipe for disaster. The reality was that I probably needed it as much as she did. Seeing Walker had brought back so many of the thoughts I managed to hide behind my smile.
Distinguished Daddy: Once Upon A Daddy Page 14