by Karina Halle
I’m not sure if she’s saying that for my sake or for hers but either way I have to agree.
While Emmett and Will get started on the steaks, Jackie and I scoop up all the materials we need for epic smores and head out down to the dock to start the fire.
“You’re going to ruin your dinner!” Will yells out the window at us.
“You won’t stop me if you know what’s best for you!” Jackie yells back. As she settles into the Adirondack chair, she gives me a triumphant smile. “He knows not to mess with me when it comes to food. I’m not even craving strange things, it’s just that when I do have a craving, I turn into a relentless she-beast until I get it.”
I smile at that as I start up the fire, not exactly sure what I’m doing. Thankfully it catches easily and soon I’m sitting back in the chair across from Jackie and cracking open a tall, cold can of local cider. The sky is now completely dark and clear, a scattering of stars popping out above us.
I look over my shoulder at the cabin and see Will and Emmett inside in the kitchen, drinking beer and laughing about something. My heart does cartwheels inside my chest.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” I ask her, watching as Emmett runs his hand through his beautiful hair. I’m so fucking in love with his face.
“You,” she says emphatically.
“Will’s probably talking about you and the baby,” I point out, turning back around in my seat to face her.
“Nah,” she says with a shrug. “They’re talking about you. There’s a reason that Will asked Emmett to help him in there. He’s been complaining that he hasn’t gotten the chance yet to properly grill him about you. You’ve been hogging up all of his time.”
“Well we both know that’s part of our contract.”
“Ah yes,” she says. “The contract. I still can’t believe that’s an actual thing that happens.”
“I know,” I tell her and open the bag of marshmallows. “Hollywood is so weird. You know, when he was in jail and I had to call his publicist, she said that stuff like this happens all the time.”
“Fake relationships?” she asks.
“Yup. Usually it happens when an actual couple breaks up, if they have to do press together, the publicist will ask them to act like they’re a couple for a long time after. By the time we hear about the break-up, it’s been done and dusted ages before.”
“Do you usually talk to his publicist? How much of a hand does she have in all this?”
“I just called her that night. I didn’t know who else to talk to, what to do.” I pause. “I hate to sound like a jealous, petty bitch but I don’t like her. And it’s not because she’s stunning and gorgeous and successful.”
“No?” Jackie laughs.
“No, well of course yeah. But I can’t figure out what her deal is. And I have a feeling that she and Emmett used to be together.”
“Have you asked him?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I don’t want to be that person.”
“What person? You’re his fake girlfriend, you can say anything, who cares.”
But I do care. Because it makes me sound like the aforementioned jealous, petty bitch. And I have zero real claim to Emmett.
“I don’t know. It’s just…I don’t trust her. I don’t trust her relationship with him, I don’t trust her intentions,” I admit, as I gather up the long metal poker I got for marshmallow toasting.
“But you said it was her idea, this whole stunt.”
“I know, it was. That’s why it’s so weird. Anyway, I guess it doesn’t really matter.”
“Why not?”
“Because eventually the contract will run out and we’ll part ways.”
“Alyssa…you know it doesn’t have to be that way. Stop pretending you don’t have feelings for the man. It’s obvious.”
Ugh. Is it really? I hate that it is.
“Is it obvious to Emmett?”
“I don’t know,” she says with a shrug. “Men are so dense sometimes.”
“Sometimes or always?”
“You know, you could just have an actual conversation with Emmett about all this.”
“I do have conversations with him.”
“I meant about your actual, real relationship. How you feel.”
“Well, that has come up once.”
“And?”
“And I told him he was a player and he owned up to it. He didn’t deny it. I said I didn’t want to have feelings for him because he would just hurt me in the end and he fucking agreed with me!”
She holds out her palm. “Wait. How long ago was this?”
“I don’t know, three weeks ago?”
“And is it possible you both feel differently now than you did a few weeks ago?”
God, yes. Every single feeling I have about him has been driven in deep, embedded into my skin and bones.
“Maybe,” I warily admit.
“And could it be because you brought up the fact that you didn’t want to have feelings for him because of the way you say he is, that he just agreed with you to save face.”
Ah. Shit.
“Maaaaaaaybe.”
“I bet that’s what it is. No one wants to hear that another person doesn’t want to develop feelings for them. Alyssa, that’s harsh.”
“I’m prickly,” I say feebly by way of explanation. “And he’s a man who has probably been in my shoes a million times and he can take it.”
“Just because you see Emmett as a player and a man doesn’t mean he doesn’t have feelings himself. That’s all.”
I close my eyes and exhale. Could that be right? Could he have just said all that because he thought it was pointless to argue with me? Because he didn’t want to be the one saying, please feel something for me?
Who knows.
“Man. This shit gets more confusing day by day,” I tell her.
“No kidding. I honestly don’t know how you do it. Why you even agreed to this ridiculous contract to begin with.”
“Right. Well here’s the thing.” I take in a deep breath. “I haven’t been exactly honest with you.”
Her frown deepens in the shadows. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” I say as I fish out a marshmallow and stick it on the end of the poker, “the whole fake relationship thing with Emmett? There was an incentive to go along with it.”
“What kind of incentive?”
“Money. Lots of money.”
Her brows raise. I lance the stick into the fire and sparks dance into the air.
“How much?”
“Forty thousand.”
She blinks at me for a moment and then lets out a dry laugh. “Wow. Okay. Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“Two reasons. I didn’t want you to think I was, like, a whore or something.”
“But you were paid to date Emmett for publicity, not sex. Right?”
“Yes of course. But still. It was hard to explain.” I rotate the stick when one side gets perfectly charred.
“And the other reason?”
“I wanted the money so that I could quit Mad Men Studios.” I glance at her. “Please don’t tell Will that. You can’t. You have to promise.”
“I won’t tell him,” she says after a beat. Her eyes look sincere in the fire light and I know she’ll keep it secret, even though I’m sure that’s the last thing she wants to do this early on in her marriage.
“I promise I’ll let him and your father know soon. I’m just waiting for the right time.”
She nods, chewing on her lip for a moment. “Honestly, I’m not surprised. And Will won’t be either. He’s told me on more than one occasion that you’re too good for the job, that you’re not being challenged. I’m sure my father feels the same way too. But…what are you going to do instead?”
I hesitate for a moment, bringing the marshmallow out of the fire and blowing out the flames. “Don’t judge but…acting.”
“Acting?”
“Yup.”
&nb
sp; “Didn’t you used to do that?”
“I did. And sometimes I still do. I still have head shots, I still go on auditions sometimes. I take those damn Master Classes online with Kevin Spacey.” She laughs at that one. “I do what I can to keep the dream alive. But it’s not enough. I want to quit so I can devote my time to it, full-time. I want to give it one last shot. And if it doesn’t work, then at least I tried.”
Silence envelopes us. The crickets are starting up again.
“I’m not judging,” Jackie says slowly. “And I think it’s great. But you’re almost thirty…”
“So? Who says you have to have all your shit figured out when you’re young? I’d rather try and find myself now and see what happens than wait and let it pass me by.”
“I guess. And if it doesn’t work out?”
I shrug. “Then I’ll have no regrets. Oh, come on, admit it, it’s a crazy idea but it makes sense for me.”
“You’re kind of right about that. It is crazy.”
“But you only live once. I’m not expecting the world but I am expecting something I can look back on and be, wow, I’m glad I did that. For a while there, I really fucking lived. And Just Jackie, so far, I haven’t felt like I’ve been living. Just going through the motions, doing the things we’re told we should do, the things we’re supposed to do. In fact, the only time I’ve felt remotely alive is…”
I trail off. I realize that I’m about name Emmett and I know that on the plane, he pretty much said the same thing to me.
“It’s Emmett,” Jackie fills in. “I know it. Ever since you started dating him, fake or not, you’ve changed. For the better, of course. Even Tiffany and I were talking about it the other day.”
I give her a sharp look. “She still thinks it’s real, right?”
“She thinks it’s real because it is real. Alyssa…that cliff we talked about? You’re so far over it, you can’t even see it anymore.”
I take a long sip of my cider and sigh. “There’s no point in hiding it anymore, is there.”
“Nope. Welcome to the Love Club.” She raises her can. “Though I have to say, I didn’t make forty grand when I fell in love with Will.”
No, but he probably spent that much trying to woo you, I think to myself. “The thing is…I didn’t just do it for the money,” I tell her. “That wasn’t enough, really. The real reason I went out with Emmett was…because it felt like the right thing to do. I know how nuts that sounds but for such a crazy situation, being with him just made sense.”
A slow smile comes across her lips. “No. I get it. Your soul was familiar with him before you were.”
I eye her in surprise. “Well ain’t that poetic.”
“I am a writer,” she points out. “And I’m still in the romantic stage of our marriage. Anyway, I’m sure Will and my father will miss you deeply, but I have to say that I think you’re doing the right thing. Whether the acting thing works out or not, no matter what you end up doing, it’s pretty obvious that your future isn’t as an office manager of a visual effects studio.” She pauses. “But I will also tell you that your future does belong with that man who is waiting for you, right now, in that kitchen. And no. I don’t mean Will. I mean the other guy. Your bruiser.”
Just then, Will pops his head out the window and yells. “Dinner’s ready!”
His booming voice seems to carry across the lake.
“Wow, the people over in Peachland probably heard that,” I tell her, getting to my feet. Before we walk off though, I pass the marshmallow to her. “For you, Jackie-O. The pregnant one gets the first roasted marshmallow.”
She gives me a charmed smile and plucks the marshmallow off the end of the stick, popping it into her mouth.
Then we walk back to the cabin, ready for dinner with our men.
* * *
As much as Jackie wanted to go for a night swim in the lake, as much as I wanted to drink cider and eat marshmallows, as much as Will and Emmett seemed adamant we have a poker tournament, all of us ended up going to bed early. Maybe it was the bottle of red wine at dinner (which Jackie stared longingly at) or the fact that we had a lot of steak and potatoes, but the only thing anyone was in the mood for was bed.
Even Emmett didn’t try any moves on me once we settled under the covers and before I could even comment on it, we were both out like a light.
We all slept in the next morning too, only getting up just before lunch to make a big meal of bacon, eggs, hash-browns and toast. Then Jackie and Will went into the lake to try stand-up paddle-boarding, while Emmett and I walked up the street to the nearest vineyard to do some tasting.
Of course, the closest vineyard happened to be called Cockburn and had a five-foot tall ceramic rooster outside.
“What is your fascination with giant cocks?” Emmett jokes as we stroll hand in hand through the gates. Even though it’s just after noon, the parking lot is packed with cars and bikes from people doing vineyard tours.
“What can I say, they make a girl happy,” I tell him.
“As long as it’s just my cock making you happy.” His grip on my hand tightens and a strange flash of heat comes across his eyes. “It has just been me, right?”
I look at him strangely. “What do you mean? You mean have I been sleeping with other guys?”
He shrugs and pulls down his aviator shades.
“Emmett,” I tell him, pulling him to a stop. “I’m with you all the time.”
“You did say there was that Casey guy at work, the one who maybe took the pictures.”
I let out an acidic laugh. “Casey? Casey is a creep and also he didn’t take the pictures. I can tell. Besides, it is in our contract that the both of us can’t go around screwing other people.”
“I know what the contract says but it doesn’t mean you don’t want to.”
I’m not really sure what’s come over him and I’m also not sure how to respond. Do I play it cool or not?
I go for something in-between. I lean in close to him and when I’m sure no one is looking, I reach down and grab his crotch. “This is the only cock for me. All you and all the time.”
Finally, he breaks into a grin. I guess all I needed to do was stroke his ego. Or his cock.
“Oh my god, isn’t that Emmett Hill?” a girl says to her friend as they walk past.
Right. Back to being on. And as much as it’s not out of place for the world to see us like this, I really could do without a headline that says Alyssa Martin Loves Cock This Much or something like that.
I pull my hand away and give him a quick smile. “Let’s go inside.”
The winery is busy but it’s also fairly large so it’s not long before we find ourselves lined up for a tasting. The guy doing it seems completely enamored with Emmett and keeps giving us large pours, which is great. The cabin is in stumbling distance and I have plenty of time to sober up before dinner at my mom’s. On second thought, I might want to stay buzzed. Bringing Emmett to meet her is a bit nerve-wracking, no matter our relationship.
“So Emmett,” the sommelier says. His name tag says he’s Eric. “Can you give me the inside scoop on Boomerang? Is Doctor Death really going to steal Boomerang’s power? I have a theory that because Boomerang can go back in time by one minute, Doctor Death is going to develop a formula to do the same. But he’ll be able to do it for like a whole day. Essentially beating Boomerang at his own game.”
Emmett lets out a low whistle, seeming both humbled and flattered. “Impressive. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you took a look at our scripts.”
The guy beams. “I’m clairvoyant,” he says and I’m pretty sure he’s not joking. “I can see into the future, in bits and pieces. Nothing significant.”
“Maybe there should be a superhero show about you,” I tell him.
Eric gives me a faint smile and then fixes all his attention back on Emmett again. “Seriously though. I think that’s what’s going to happen. But I still think Doctor Death will die.”
Emmett
shrugs, apparently not put off by it. “It depends on my contract,” he says.
I give Emmett a look, like I’m not sure if he should be talking about this stuff but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“So you’re not permanent,” Eric notes.
“Nah, man. Never was. I was supposed to be there for a few episodes but they loved me so much they kept me on. But I still think I’ll get written off at some point, maybe even soon.”
“Really?” I ask him.
Emmett nods, looks between the two of us. “Yeah. But it’s okay. This was never supposed to be my real comeback. You said so yourself.”
“I know but–”
“So then what will you do?” Eric asks. “And what happens to Boomerang?”
“Boomerang will find some other villain to tussle with. Look,” he says, adjusting himself on the stool, “we all know my character isn’t the Joker. He’s not even Klaus. He’s good for now but eventually there will be someone better. Or the show will get canceled.” He laughs when Eric looks horrified. “Anyway, I’ll find something. Probably go back to London and do theatre again.”
“What?” I whisper. This is the first I’m hearing of this. What the hell is he talking about, moving back to London to do theatre? When?
“Uh oh,” Eric says, starting to pour us all more wine. “Looks like you guys are in for a break-up.”
I practically snarl at Eric. “Mind your own business,” I tell him.
He stares at me with wide eyes and slowly backs away from our glasses. “This is the merlot. Enjoy.” Then he promptly turns around and starts dealing with other people.
“Hey, he was pouring good,” Emmett complains, swirling the wine around the glass.
“When were you going to tell me you were going to move back to London?”
His features go slack. “I don’t know. At some point.”
“But when?”
“I don’t know,” he says again and takes a sniff of the wine. “Not bad.”
“Emmett,” I hiss. “Please. I can’t believe you’ve been thinking about this and you didn’t have the courtesy to even tell me.”
His eyes narrow. “Courtesy? Why would I have to tell you?”
“Because.”