by Maggie Marr
I swiped away my last tear. Kiley was on top right now. Well, she’d better enjoy the view, because one of the things I’d learned growing up in Hollywood was that everyone stumbled, everyone fell, and if you didn’t have friends to catch you, that fall could be a long way down.
Chapter 5
Ryan
Dude, so glad you are out of that place!” Webber pulled me in for a man hug and slapped me on the back.
“Thanks.”
Webber’s arrival at Lane and Dillon’s, my first day out of rehab, surprised me. My gaze flicked from Webber to Dillon, who lounged on the giant leather sofa, and then back to Webber. Webber’s gaze was latched onto Dillon. Oh, right, Webber wasn’t here to see me. I was an excuse for Webber to hang with Dillon. His career was blowing up and every agent in town would be lighting up Dillon’s phone. Webber wanted to be around Dillon as much as possible and with Dillon’s career rocketing to the stars whatever or whomever was important to Dillon was also important to Webber.
“So, guy.” Webber settled into a leather chair beside mine. “You ready to work?”
A ping of anxiousness dropped into my belly. Was I ready to work? I wanted to work, but when I worked emotion ran close to the surface like an icy river trickling under my skin. Before the accident I used the booze and the drugs to numb any of the exposed feelings I experienced from inhabiting a character. Now, instead of using booze and drugs, I’d have to rely on myself and my meetings, and all those coping skills I’d supposedly picked up at rehab.
I wasn’t about to tell Webber any of that shit. Instead, I slipped my all-is-well actor smile onto my face.
“Yeah, man, I’m ready to work.” I settled into my chair as though I didn’t have a care or concern. There was no room for uncertainty with Webber.
“Great! I’m not going to lie, man, your rep took a hit with some people in town, but others thought launching a Porsche into space over a cliff and surviving was pretty fucking cool!”
Webber’s hand shot out as though it were a plane sailing above the earth. I watched the trajectory of his hand.
A cold sensation clamped through my chest. My heartbeat picked up and a clammy feeling swept across my skin. I licked my lips and blinked my eyes. I might not remember the accident, but this sick feeling in my gut told me I didn’t like talking about it either.
“So, dude, the big offers won’t come in for a while. You are going to be tough to get bonded until, you know, you prove that you aren’t going to fall off the wagon.”
“Sure, I get it,” I said. I nodded like my new sobriety was no problem. My gaze drifted toward the row of top shelf liquors behind the bar. I wasn’t yet sure if my sobriety would hold. Would my resolve slip away from me when the dark chills and fears crept toward me?
“There’s this indie, The Exuberance of Prosperity, that starts in a week,” Webber said. “The pay is shit, but the script is good.”
“The script is very good,” Dillon said. “Lane read it about a month ago.”
If Lane had read the script a month ago it was because the director and producer had offered the role to Dillon first. Pretty standard stuff, but six months ago they’d have gone to Dillon with the role after they went to me. I couldn’t dwell on the fact that Dillon was climbing past me on the Hollywood ladder to success. Right now, I was lucky to still have a career.
“Once you knock this indie out of the park there’s an action film that Dillon is doing next for Summit and it’s a two-hander. Got a great role for both you guys. By then we should have your career out of the shitter,” Webber said.
Shitter. My career was in the shitter. But at least I had a career.
“Great,” I said.
But I didn’t feel great. The whole thing was too much, too soon. A wave of fatigue hit me. My whole body felt beaten and bruised. I stood up. The counselors at Clarity said to focus on myself and my recovery.
“Guys, I am beat,” I said. “I’m going to sack out. Dillon, tell Lane I said thanks.” I turned to Webber. “And Webber, man, thanks. Send me the script and I’ll read it first thing.”
“You got it,” Webber said. Sympathy glimmered in Webber’s eyes.
My stomach lurched. I didn’t want to be that guy, the guy that everyone felt sorry for. But, right now, I was. I looked like shit with my thin frame and blotchy skin. I hadn’t slept or eaten well for a month, and I was still trying to heal from the crash. Now I had a whole career to rebuild and one chance to do it.
If I didn’t rock this role, in this tiny indie, and make the world notice me again, then my career was over. There were too many good-looking guys who could act lined up behind me waiting for my slot. Just like Dillon. He’d been behind me and now, because of me totally fucking up, he’d leapfrogged over me and was getting offered all the great roles. Not his fault. I didn’t want my failure to be his fault or anyone’s fault but mine. I wanted to blame Dillon. I wanted to blame everyone but me. But I couldn’t. Not anymore.
“Night, man,” Dillon said.
“Night, guys,” I said and walked out of the room and toward the stairs. Two of the four dogs—Bernie and Kong—trailed by my side.
Amanda
“We’re here!” Lane said.
I didn’t share Lane’s excitement. Yes, I adored my best friend, and yes she was warm and wonderful and had a fabulous home and a great fiancé, but my life was complete crap at the moment and I couldn’t see a way out of the mess in which I’d managed to land.
I followed Lane into the living room that was still, for some unfathomable reason even after Lane had inhabited this house for nearly a year, a man cave. It was filled with dark leather furniture, an ornate wooden bar, a pool table, arcade games, and two men. One guy I liked and one guy I’d never really thought was much of a good guy. I knew he was here when we pulled up because there was a Tesla in the drive with a California license plate that read “Webbz.” Who did that? And to such a good-looking car?
“Amanda!” Webber’s eyes sparkled with glee. “I haven’t seen you since the wedding.”
I pressed a smile to my face. I looked like shit. I carried nearly everything I owned. Dealing with a smarmy agent who was looking to pick on me was last on my list of things I wanted to do, but he’d be a good place to start if I wanted to sharpen my claws. Webber currently repped the soon-to-be-biggest action star in the world, Dillon MacAvoy, who was also the fiancé to my best friend. For those reasons alone Webber ought to play nice.
But nobody said Webber was smart, or nice.
“How the mighty have fallen,” Webber said. A slick smile greased his face.
Webber had totally been that kid growing up that got picked last for kickball.
“I hear you and the stepmommy are on the outs.”
“The rumors are completely untrue. We get along swimmingly.”
My eyes flicked from Webber to Lane. Some sort of conversation based on looks, head shakes, and eye movements took place between her and her beloved Dillon, who lounged on the couch.
“Let me get you settled,” Lane said.
“Bye-bye, Webbz,” I called and followed Lane from the rec room to the foyer.
I heard Webber laugh, then, “She’s staying here too?”
Dillon mumbled something I couldn’t hear.
“Wait until she sees who her housemate is,” Webber said.
My housemate? I followed Lane up the staircase. As long as Kiley wasn’t stashed in a room upstairs, I would be fine. Closed doors lined the upstairs hallway. Lane opened a door. The room was fabulous—any room with a bed and a bathroom and a closet at this point in my life was fabulous.
Hot tears prickled my eyes. Everything I took for granted in my life was gone. I had nothing—really—nothing. Scratch that, I had my friends, I had my computer, I had my degree, and I had my stubborn Legend will to succeed.
“Thank you,” I whispered. My voice sounded shredded even to my ears. I needed a job, a place to live, and a way to live without the limitless perks that ca
me with being Steve Legend’s daughter. Tomorrow I would start to rebuild.
Lane wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “You’re my best friend. Anything you need, I’m here.”
I swiped a hand under my eyes. I was so thankful and so irritated all at that same time.
“I’m supposed to be in New York starting my new job away from the entertainment industry,” I said.
“I know.”
“Instead I’m now living in a house with the next Steve Legend.”
I understood irony. Everything I wanted to escape was being presented to me all over again. Only this time I would witness the climb to the celebrated heights with my best friend and her soon-to-be box-office killer of a husband.
“You’ll be here to help plan the wedding,” Lane offered up. Her smile indicated she realized this was little comfort but, she was right, I would be here, at least for the summer, to help. Helping Lane with the wedding would be the one bright spot in my otherwise muck-filled life.
“I’m happy about that,” I said.
I couldn’t help replaying the recent events over and over in my head. I had told the truth to Daddy and I lost. I wanted to believe that if Daddy knew what Kiley was doing to me while he was away on set that he’d put the kibosh on her card-closing, lock-changing behavior, but I wasn’t certain. I wasn’t certain that Kiley’s behavior wasn’t coming directly from my dad.
“You did the right thing,” Lane said, as if reading my mind. Lane’s pure blue eyes held friendship and warmth and hope. “How could you have lived with yourself if you didn’t tell him?”
“In Daddy’s swank New York penthouse with my kick-ass internship?”
Lane’s eyes still held me even after my glib comment. “I know you better than that. You would have hated yourself. He’s your dad. You had to tell him.”
I closed my eyes for a split second. “I did.” I opened them again. “I had to. You’re right. I didn’t have a choice. And now if Daddy needs to cut me off to feel better about what I saw and what I said, I still know that I did the right thing. Too bad he didn’t stop the whole fiasco that day.” I sat on the bed and crossed my arms over my chest. “Maybe Kiley would have ended up with Ryan Sinclair. Those two totally deserve each other.”
Lane didn’t respond but she looked as though she had things she needed to say.
“Lane? Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she said and rubbed her hand over her face. Her mouth cracked open into a giant yawn. “Just tired. Long day. So listen, Amanda, there is something I need to tell you.”
“Okay,” I walked toward the dresser and lifted up my giant purse. I unloaded my computer and my makeup case. I also pulled out my phone that, remarkably, still seemed to have service. Perhaps Kiley had forgotten about turning off my mobile. Fingers crossed. I hoped to use the phone and all the contacts tomorrow to find some sort of job that paid me some sort of salary. I wasn’t completely unqualified. I had a degree. In art history.
My heart collapsed in my chest. Who was I kidding? The only job experience I had a firm grasp on was on-set etiquette, and how to deal with difficult directors, producers, and stars. I could read scripts. I could set up lighting. Maybe I could be a gaffer or a grip? Wait, those were union jobs. While Lane had been talking I’d been trying to think of a way to get a job.“So that’s why he’s here.”
“Hmm?” I turned to Lane who stood just inside the door. I was so caught up in my own world, I’d completely tuned out every word she’d just said. Something about something, about someone being here. She was probably talking about another dog. She and Dillon were like a rescue shelter for pets and now, with my arrival, they’d be sheltering people, too. I pulled a smile from the depths and plastered it to my face.
“Yeah, sure thing. No problem,” I said. I plugged my phone in to charge.
“Okay?” Her eyebrow cocked and she tilted her head.
What? I didn’t hate their dogs. I just didn’t understand the need to have nearly a half dozen canines traipsing around the house.
“Absolutely okay,” I said.
“Well, if you’re sure,” she said. Lane looked a little surprised and her gaze flickered around the room. She still looked uncertain as to whether she believed me. I turned toward my bed where the most darling pajamas lay on the duvet. Blue bunnies hopped across the pink cotton. They were brand new. That was pure Lane. She never took credit. She simply did wonderful things so she could see the happiness in other people.
“These”—I lifted the top and bottom—“look so comfy.”
A tentative smile crossed her lips. “You’ll let me know if you need anything?” she asked. “We’re just down the hall, three doors down.”
“What I need is sleep. I am …” A wave of exhaustion with the force of a tsunami hit me. “I am utterly exhausted,” I said.
“Good night,” Lane said.
“Good night,” I called and turned toward the bathroom to go and change into my new pj's. I might be broke, I might be homeless and jobless and estranged from my family but, lucky for me, I had some fantastic friends.
Chapter 6
Ryan
Since the accident, sleeping hadn’t been easy. I couldn’t use my normal tricks such as drinking until I passed out, or partying until I passed out, or popping a pill and then passing out. Basically, my only trick had been using some sort of chemical until I passed out. And I knew why I relied on chemical help for sleep. I relied on chemical help because, deep in the night, my mind raced.
My mind raced like a gerbil on speed. I could barely capture the thoughts that plagued me in the middle of the night. I’d panic when I couldn’t capture them, and then I panicked when I did because those fuckers, those thoughts that drove me nuts in the middle of the night, weren’t good thoughts. They were bad thoughts. They were the what-if-worst-case-scenario thoughts.
Knowing I couldn’t get to sleep right now I shoved the blankets off my body. My hand touched something warm, soft and … furry. I grabbed my phone and pressed the flashlight app. A bright light shone onto two dogs passed out on my bed beside me. These two were Scorsese and Spielberg but, really, I didn’t know which was which. I pointed my light toward the pillow beside me and there was Kong. He lay curled in a ball on the other pillow. He blinked his eyes at me, but didn’t move. I reached up and patted his head.
“Sorry buddy,” I said. I figured the fourth one, Bernie, was in Dillon and Lane’s room. It was four a.m. and I couldn’t sleep. I yanked back the covers. Lying here, ruminating over shit I couldn’t control was un-fucking-healthy and could definitely put me on the downhill slide.
I knew what waited for me at the bottom of that slide—tequila and blow, my two best buddies. I shivered. My T-shirt scraped over the still-tender scars on my arms. The doctors said to take it easy physically, and to build back up slowly to where I had been. A pressure built in my head with that idea.
I tied my running shoes. Air filled my lungs. An ache echoed in my side where I’d cracked my ribs. The bones had stitched themselves back together and my body was healed. The benefit of jetting off a cliff when shit-faced was that I was basically like a rubber ball. Jelly. Nothing stiffened up because I’d been, most likely, passed out.
Another shiver. My back teeth ground. I was so lucky. I almost always bagged a babe at a wedding. Took a girl home. Got laid. I must have been completely wasted at the Kepner/Legend wedding because not only had I failed to score but, thank God, I’d failed to find a girl to take home with me that night. The pups now stood on the bed. They stretched and yawned.
“Go back to sleep, fellas,” I said. “Just clearing out the gray matter.” That was enough for Kong. He circled the pillow three times and plopped back down. He tucked himself into a fluff-ball of fur. The other two? They stood beside me, tails wagging. Apparently if I was up and on my way out, they were up and on their way out too.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go find your leashes.”
*
The kitchen was dar
k and empty. The only sound in the stillness was the pitter-patter of furry feet. The one that looked like a lab bumped his wet nose against my hand.
“You guys are crazy. If I could sleep I wouldn’t be down here.” I figured they kept the leashes in the kitchen and I was right. As soon as I grabbed them the pups pranced in circles around me. The corners of my mouth pulled upward; these guys were ecstatic because I was taking them for a run. No wonder Dillon rescued so many dogs. Making them happy was simple and seeing them happy, made me happy, too.
“I hope you guys have done this before, or this is going to be a short run,” I said.
I opened the door. Cool crisp air laced with the scent of wet grass hit me in the face. The lungful of fresh air settled me. Better. Already better. The demons screaming through my mind scurried away with exercise and fresh air. Harder than popping a pill? For sure. Better for me? Definitely.
The three of us walked outside. I stretched. Looked at the neighborhood hills.
“Ready guys?” They wagged their tails. Hints of a pink sunrise glimmered in the east. I put one foot in front of the other and we headed down the drive.
Amanda
My eyes popped open. What the hell? Half my behind hung off the bed. I tried to push my body to the right, but a wall of fur blocked my progress. A giant dog lay in the center of the bed. I placed one foot on the floor and sat up.
“Oh, hell no,” I said. “You have got to go.”
He didn’t move. He didn’t shift. He didn’t even open his eyes. Through the window, a sliver of sunlight crept over the horizon. Darkness clung to the morning. I flipped over my phone. Too early to call or text anyone. I poked the dog with my hand. Again, he gave me the ‘I’m ignoring you’ routine. He was seriously bigger than me. He might have outweighed me by ninety pounds. My hands pressed into his back. He was like a furry brick wall. My entire body was leveraged off the bed. There was no way I could win this war.