Behind the Scenes

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Behind the Scenes Page 20

by Christina C Jones


  Once he was done speaking, I opened my mouth, but was interrupted again by the arrival of our plates – the food smelled good, but my appetite was beyond lost.

  “So… what I hear is that… because you and mama gave up your passions to tow the family line… you think I should do the same?”

  He looked at me. “I wouldn’t put it like that, but… yes. What parents have children and don’t have expectation?”

  “I understand expectation. I even understand being disappointed, I get it. But… with all due respect… I reject this legacy,” I told him, and his gaze shot up to me from his plate, alarmed. “I will not pass down the idea that a cool story for the family reunion is more important than their freedom to carve what they want out of life.”

  “Logan—”

  “No,” I interrupted, shaking my head. I hated the crack in my voice after I’d already been determined not to cry, but this was… so beyond disappointing. “I don’t even understand how you can say this stuff to me, Daddy. All my life, you’ve challenged me to not accept easy answers, to think critically, to think for myself. What was all that, huh? Was that only for other people? I’m only supposed to think for myself when my thoughts line up with yours?”

  My father dropped his fork, pushing out an exasperated sigh. “My God, Logan, with the dramatics! You’re telling me you hated practicing law this much, that you’re acting as if our wanting this for you is some punishment?”

  “Yes,” I insisted, with a dry laugh. “Yes. Finally. Now, you’re listening. I would leave work physically ill. It was draining my desire to go anywhere, do anything, be anything. I was miserable at that firm, miserable with Les, and you’re sitting across that table speaking as if that’s an acceptable tradeoff, as long as I continue the legacy.” I stopped and scoffed. “You know… I wondered if you knew me, but I’m realizing, hell… do you actually love me?”

  “Don’t you dare question that, young lady. Not ever. Your mother and I have sacrificed and worked ourselves to the bone to make sure you had every resource, everything you might need at your disposal, because we love you!”

  “Then prove it,” I demanded, barely keeping my composure. “You’re talking to me about money and connections, private schools and tutors and yes, I appreciate all that. But it’s so disingenuous to point to that to prove you love me when it was just as much about ensuring your precious legacy. Love doesn’t ask you to suffer for it. Love doesn’t require your misery. Love desires your wholeness. Love doesn’t see you hurting and begging to be seen and decide that’s an acceptable state. If your love and attention require that I fall in line to live a life I barely want to wake up to… I don’t want anything to do with that.”

  For a long moment, my father stared, in astonishment of what had just spilled out of my mouth. “So you are telling me you would rather be disengaged from your family than simply accept the gift we sacrificed to be able to offer?”

  “Frame it in whatever way makes you feel justified,” I laughed. “But…yes. And make no mistake – I will not fold, I will not fail, I will not be back to beg. I will continue to kick ass on my own, and I will pull myself higher. I will start my own legacy, yes of giving my children whatever tools, resources, benefits I can. So that they have no limits to following their own dreams and figuring themselves out. And you will not be privy to a single intimate moment of watching us soar, and it will be your own doing.”

  I was fully prepared to walk away from the table.

  And not even because I was just so certain that he was wrong, and I was right, but I was certainly full of righteous indignation, and not prepared to let it go. They had so much to say about how they’d raised me, but instead of trusting the job they’d done, they’d rather treat me like a black sheep for not doing exactly what they said.

  It was bullshit.

  And I didn’t have any qualms about seeing it as exactly that.

  Maybe ten years ago, when I was still too young and naive to realize my parents were not infallible, I would have simply gone along with this. I would have tucked away the yearning to do something else and simply listened, because they were successful.

  Really successful.

  How could they possibly not know what was best?

  I wasn’t some silly twenty-year-old girl anymore, though. I was an adult, self-sufficient and capable of fending for myself. I didn’t want to be okay without my parents, but if I had to… I would.

  And I would never forget the lesson in that.

  “It seems that you’ve given this a lot of consideration,” my father spoke, seeming to choose his words very carefully. “You feel like you’ve done the due diligence of looking at it from all angles?”

  I nodded. “I do. I won’t pretend not to understand, or even empathize with what you guys wanted for me. I get it. What I don’t get is the sentiment that your wants for my life should supersede my own. What I don’t get is the alienation you subjected me to, when I dared to venture out. I don’t understand why, when I stepped into my own as the enterprising young woman you raised me to be… you decided it was something to punish me for.”

  “That, I am sorry for,” he admitted… surprisingly. There was clear contrition in his gaze when it met mine. “I know your mother has her own piece to say about all that, but neither of us… that wasn’t okay, Logan. And that, I will freely apologize for. We shouldn’t have done that, and we’re sorry we hurt you in that manner. Neither of us knew how to manage that depth of disappointment, so unexpectedly, and we… reacted badly.”

  “I… accept that apology Daddy, but honestly… if either of you had been paying any real attention, my leaving the firm wouldn’t have been unexpected. If you’d genuinely asked how I was doing, how I was coping with it all, you would’ve known I was struggling. It wouldn’t have come to this.”

  “Maybe if you’d spoken up—”

  “Oh don’t do that. Do not do that,” I laughed. “It’s taking all this today, when I’m years into a very successful business to get you to even – maybe – see that I’m capable of being fine without becoming a lawyer. Don’t act like you wouldn’t have shut me down and not listened back then, when you’re barely listening now.”

  “You’ve made your point.”

  “Have I really though?” I looked at my untouched plate and shook my head. “Does any of this mean anything to you, or are we just going right back to the same thing, where I’m not invited to dinner or golf anymore because I dared to put my foot down?”

  My father pushed out a sigh. “You have made yourself very plain. And, as such… we will do our best to respect it. Even if we don’t understand it.”

  Relief allowed me to drop the tension in my shoulders and jaw, but only a little. I still wasn’t completely convinced, but… if nothing else, I didn’t know my father to be a liar.

  If he was saying he’d try… he likely would.

  “Okay,” I agreed, finally picking up my fork to at least pretend I could eat. I barely had a mouthful consumed before…

  “So I hear you’re dating a lawyer over there at the network.”

  You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

  “How on earth do you know that?” I asked, looking up.

  “Your uncle saw you out at dinner with the young man, so he asked Desiree about it, and she confirmed. No untoward methods this time.”

  I nodded. “Oh. Um… yes,” I admitted, swallowing the outrage I’d been ready to dive fully into. “Anthony Cottrell. And I wouldn’t call it dating, we’ve just been out together a few times.”

  “Either way, I’m just glad it’s not that fellow you were working for – you don’t need to be wrapped up with anyone with those kinds of problems while you’re trying to build a business.”

  I frowned. “First of all, Pierre is still my client, and he’s been incredible to work with. Second, we were never dating. Third… I’m not sure what you believe you know, but he doesn’t have any ‘problems’ that are any of the public’s concern.”

>   “The public, no, but any man in such proximity to my daughter… I want to know what he’s about, and I would think you’d want the same. A recovering addict, whose father died via overdose… wouldn’t that be someone to be wary of, on a personal level? And I believe there was some mystery shrouding the mother’s death as well.”

  “His mother was epileptic,” I snapped. “She had a grand mal seizure, and her death was sudden, and incredibly traumatic for their whole family, just like his father’s was. Pierre has been through unfathomable loss, and yes he made some mistakes, but he also put in the work to never go back there again. I… really can’t believe you’re judging him as if the firm’s client list isn’t full of current functioning addicts.”

  “Goddamnit, Logan! Is everything I say going to be a problem for you now?”

  “If everything you say is problematic, then… yeah,” I shrugged. “But right now I’m just trying to figure out what Pierre has done for you to feel so justified in judging him?”

  “You mean other than walking around looking like a thug?”

  “Okay, I’m done here,” I said, taking a last sip of my water before grabbing my bag. “I’m just not about to listen to this.”

  “Why are you so sensitive about this young man?”

  “Why are you so critical of him?” I countered. “Pierre is incredibly talented, he’s resilient and focused, and he’s… a good person. Which is, alone, more than I can say for even a quarter of your client list. So can we just… not?”

  Across the table, my father pushed out a heavy sigh, then chuckled. “This isn’t going very well, is it?”

  “I think that depends on what your goal was when you sat down,” I said. “I’d hoped we could come to an understanding that I love you dearly, but my life is my own, and when input was desired, it would be sought. But I can see we’re not there.”

  “Nor was Rome built in a day,” my father quipped, and even though I wasn’t really trying to hear that… I understood the message.

  And I was willing to give it some time.

  Instead of leaving like I wanted… I stuck around, and we shifted conversation to more neutral topics. By the time I left our lunch date, I actually felt pretty good about it, even while knowing that him simply hearing me out had only been a first step.

  Sunday was technically my day off now that shooting had started. Sundays were an off day for everyone on the crew, actually. Since there was nothing happening for me to observe, I was making my rounds with the other people in my life. Now that I’d finally caught up with my father, the next thing on my agenda was another semi-date with Anthony.

  He’d talked me back to his house.

  This time, it was truly for us to just hang out, not even over a meal. I wanted to see if I still liked him when I wasn’t stuffing my face, and really… I was still trying to see what the lack of chemistry I was feeling was about.

  He was all the things that should make him a breeze to casually date, and maybe more, but there was just… something.

  Maybe the fact that he wasn’t Pierre?

  Which was completely ridiculous, because me and Pierre as a thing was like… a nonstarter.

  Is it though?

  Shit.

  I really couldn’t entertain that line of thought while I was literally in another man’s house, watching him make me a root beer float. I wasn’t trying to think about Pierre, or that kiss from the other night, or how he’d felt inside me all those weeks ago, or anything like that.

  But it was hard when Anthony wasn’t talking about anything worth mentally connecting to.

  “So what else was on your agenda today?” he asked, after having spent the last several minutes talking to me about his grocery shopping adventure from the morning. He slid the float over to me, then took a seat beside me at the counter with his own. “What got pushed from your schedule to make time to eat ice cream with me?”

  I smiled. “Uh… I typically take it pretty easy on Sundays, so just some quality time with me, myself, and I,” I laughed. “I did have lunch with my father earlier, which was… interesting.”

  “That sounds ominous,” he chuckled.

  “That’s about right. We weren’t on great terms before today, and now… we’re a little better, I think. I’m still not sure we’re seeing eye to eye.”

  Anthony nodded. “Yeah, that parent relationship now that we’re good and grown… that can be tough. What was the friction about, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Oh it’s not some big secret or anything like that. Your basic parents wanted me to be a lawyer and marry a lawyer trope. Which, I subverted by leaving their law firm and breaking up with the lawyer they’d handpicked for me.”

  “Wow – so, your parents are lawyers too? With their own firm?”

  I raised an eyebrow at him, surprised that this was news. We hadn’t gone into much detail about family yet, since we were still in the early parts of getting to know each other, but still… not to sound haughty, but the Byers were known.

  Especially when he was a lawyer in this city.

  “Yeah – was that not a thing you knew?” I asked, suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable.

  Confusion knit his brow, and he shook his head. “My apologies if it’s a detail that slipped by me, but… I can’t say I remember you telling me about it.”

  “I don’t believe I have, but… I don’t know. Did you not know who Des was, when I introduced you? Everybody in this city knows Desiree Byers.”

  His eyes sprang open wide – a little too wide, or maybe I was just being paranoid. “Man… I don’t think I ever made that connection until just now. Your family is the Byers family, from that big firm downtown? With the commercial? Franklin and Frederick Byers?”

  “Yes… Franklin Byers is my father.”

  “Damn. And you’re turning the family legacy down?” he cringed. “That’s bold. I wish I’d had that kind of backing when I was trying to get my footing. I’m only a few years past paying all my loans off.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Really? This isn’t inherited for you?”

  “Not at all. Nobody thought I’d be able to do it, actually, but then everybody had a hand out. I don’t ever want my children to experience that, so I plan to do all I can to give them what I didn’t have. And I’d hope they wouldn’t squander it, knowing how hard I’ve worked to get even where I am now, as a corporate lawyer – not a revered position at a prestigious firm.”

  “I’m not squandering anything. My education and experience absolutely inform what I do now, and I’m grateful for the opportunities my parents afforded me. I just don’t feel like it’s a debt I should have to repay by living my life according to their wants.”

  Anthony nodded. “Right, right. I get that part too. I guess I just… see it from both sides.”

  I bet you fucking do.

  “Yeah well, I’m not looking to litigate my life choices with anyone – especially when I’m doing perfectly fine.”

  “And you shouldn’t have to, really,” Anthony agreed. “I’m an outsider here, so I don’t really know all the intricacies and history, all those things that inform how you feel about this. In addition to you being a woman, and just… maybe interpreting this whole thing differently, you know? From where I’m sitting, I’d love to be told what to do with my career by a man like your father.”

  “Maybe I should put you in touch with him then,” I laughed. “It seems like he needs a project, and since you understand the value of mentoring, unlike me, maybe I should send him your way.”

  Anthony chuckled. “Hey, don’t threaten me with a good time, Ms. Byers. People would pay good money for an opportunity like that.”

  “I’m going to pass that along. Give him something to do instead of breathing down my neck – give the wisdom to someone who’d really appreciate it.”

  Beside me, Anthony’s expression changed, shifting to a bit of a cringe.

  “I… get the impression I’ve said something wrong?”


  Pushing myself off my barstool, I shook my head. “No, you’ve told your truth, which is perfectly fine. I just don’t like it, and I’m not having a good time anymore, so I’m going to go.”

  “We don’t have to talk about this at all,” Anthony insisted, following me to the door. “Stick around. I don’t want us to part on these kinds of terms.”

  “I’m not mad at you,” I assured him. “I just… should’ve gone home and stayed there after that lunch with my father. I’m really not in a company kind of headspace, so… yeah.”

  He sighed. “You sure I can’t convince you? You didn’t even finish your float. How am I gonna cement my ability to feed you as my last redeeming quality when I make you mad if you’re not gonna finish, huh?”

  “I’m sure there will be another chance,” I laughed. “Thank you for inviting me, but… seriously. I’m just in a mood, and it’s not fair to either of us, so I should probably go.”

  He nodded. “Okay. I appreciate that, so… I won’t hold you. Will I see you around the office at all tomorrow?”

  “Probably not, since we’re starting a new episode. Episode two.”

  “Damn, y’all have been doing all that shooting and only on the second episode?”

  “Yuppp,” I nodded. “It’s not as fast as most people think – and we’ve actually been very efficient. Most hour-long dramas take about ten days per episode, so we’re making good time.”

  “Fascinating. You should stick around and tell me more about it.”

  “Nice try,” I laughed, stepping out the door. “Let’s try this another time?”

  “Sure. I’ll look forward to it.”

  I… didn’t let him kiss me.

  In fairness, maybe he would’ve had the sense not to try this time, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I didn’t linger, going straight to my car and starting it up, but I did check my phone before putting it into gear.

  I had a text from Pierre.

  Guess who has a very rough cut of episode one, just waiting to be watched? I’ll be at the office in a bit to watch if you want in… - Pierre Perry III

 

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