The Role

by A. B. Wilson

  David cleared his throat from the front seat. “Sorry to interrupt, but where am I taking you now?”

  “Do you want to come over? Or I could come to your house if you want company? We can watch a movie or something.” I groaned at my lame offer. It was ridiculous that I had immediate access to every entertainment option in L.A., yet my go-to was ‘wanna watch a movie at my house?’

  Alina shook her head and winced. “No, thank you. I would, but I get migraines, and the stress plus that drink are triggering another one right now. I need to get home to a quiet and dark place.”

  “You sure?” I asked as I reached out to stroke her temples, which had gone clammy. Her eyes shuttered as she leaned against me. “I could maybe help. Get you water, medicine, whatever you need.”

  With her eyes still closed she nodded and said, “Totally sure. There’s really nowhere for you to sleep other than the futon or my couch, and I can’t bear to have anything touch me if this goes full-on.”

  “Okay, but let me at least help you into the house.”

  She nodded again and the passing streetlights illuminated her face. Even with her eyes shut, the sharp bursts of light from the lamps made her flinch, her face screwed up in a rictus of pain.

  We waited in the car while David took the keys to go open the door ahead of us. Then I swooped her into my arms and carried her in. She whimpered a little with every thump of my feet on the worn hardwood floors. I set her down on the bed and she managed to slur out the name of the medicine she needed from the bathroom.

  I stopped her from lying down and she cried out in distress. “Come on, let me get you out of this dress and into a T-shirt or something so you can be more comfortable.” She moaned and pointed in the direction of her dresser. I grabbed the first T-shirt I could find and slid it over her head, then I unknotted the halter top and slid her dress down, covering her up with the long shirt so she was never completely exposed. Once it was off, she lay down with a sigh of relief. Her eyes cracked open and she reached out a trembling hand to stroke my cheek. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “Rest, get better. I’ll stop by tomorrow to check on you.” I bent, kissed her forehead and tucked the blankets around her tightly. Even though every fiber of me wanted to stay and make sure all was well, I slowly backed out of the room. My last sight of her was her hair spread all over the pillow in those big curls, her body clenched into the tiniest ball beneath her covers.

  “Back home?” David asked as I got back into the SUV.

  “Yes, please.” I laid my head back and closed my eyes.

  I didn’t bother with the lights when I got home. Headed to the kitchen for a beer then up to my room. Everything was packed in suitcases lined along the wall for my upcoming trip home. I sat at the edge of my tub, drinking the beer and flipping my phone around in my hands.

  Given our very new status, I really didn’t want to leave her for even a few days while I went to visit my family. The attention from the event tonight ensured that people would go looking for her, and I couldn’t let her face that alone, since the exposure was largely because of me. Maybe I could stay with her, skip the trip. My family would understand if I explained.

  I slammed the rest of my beer and restlessly got up to wander my empty, echoing house that no longer felt like home, not the way Alina’s tiny beach house did. My life was careening off the rails again, but this time in a good way, because I felt centered and grounded for the first time in five years.

  This was the power Alina already held, and maybe I should have been scared, because I’d been so adamantly against falling into another relationship. Yet here I was, contemplating cancelling my first trip home in ages to be with her because I worried that she’d need me if the press came for her. But the only alternative to cancelling that I could see was to bring her with me. And that felt terrifying in its rightness.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Alina

  A tentative knock on my front door pulled me out of my half-awake, luxurious dozing. Everything felt tender and only halfway healed after a migraine, and I was moving at the pace of an invalid who’d been bedridden for months. Slowly, I pulled on a robe and headed downstairs.

  “Just a sec,” I practically whispered from the vestibule as I peeked through the peephole to see Markus bopping from one foot to another while carrying a take-out bag and thermos. I spun the locks, wincing at the noise, and finally opened the door. I immediately regretted not checking the mirror and could suddenly feel the remainder of my expertly done smoky eye crusted beneath my eyelashes. He grinned at me before he could stop himself, then quickly smoothed his expression as I glared at him.

  “Still not feeling so well?” he asked as he searched my pale, messy face for a clue. “I can go, I’ll drop these off.” He offered me the bag, shook it gently in my face, and the smell of lemon curd and almond paste wafted out in a tempting cloud.

  It was a very sweet offer, but he was damn lucky that smells weren’t triggering my gag reflex anymore. He had a lot to learn about migraines if he wanted to be with me.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I grumbled and snatched the bag. I inhaled the heavenly aroma and squinted at him. “You’re forgiven. I don’t have any more pain, only a little residual light and sound sensitivity. So talk softly please. What’s up?”

  “If you’re sure, I really don’t want to intrude,” he said uncertainly. I dug through the bag and waved at him to follow me to the kitchen, where I grabbed a paper towel off the roll and placed it on the counter beneath an almond croissant.

  “Well, first I wanted to go through the publicity blitz from last night with you and see if you wanted my team to do anything. It’s not bad,” he hastened to assure me. “But we can do anything you want to squash rumors—my team is at your disposal until you hire your own people. And second, I have a proposal for you.”

  He stepped carefully around me and set down the thermos. I watched, bemused, as he immediately opened the correct cupboard and pulled out two mugs. He poured and added the exactly right amount of milk before handing one to me.

  “What?” he asked, misinterpreting my look. “Did I get it wrong? I think that’s how I’ve seen you take it.”

  I took a sip. It was perfect. I shook my head and smiled. “It’s perfect. I didn’t know you noticed.”

  He blushed and his ears went pink as he said quietly, “I notice a lot of things about you.”

  My turn to blush now and look away.

  “So,” I started as I swirled my mug like it was an indecently large goblet of wine. “Publicity review and a proposal, plus a lovely breakfast…”

  “And I was really worried—you seemed so ill last night.” He shrugged. “If you’re feeling better, I was wondering if you’d want to hang out.”

  “Yes? But you’re going to have to give me a bit to pull it together.” I tapped my chin and took a sip of coffee as I mentally ran through options. “Also, how public do we want to be today? Did you notice anyone tailing you?”

  “No, I drove today and I’m positive no one saw me leave. My housekeeper brought over the pastries when she arrived this morning and that’s my own coffee. For today, we should be fine. Have you checked your phone at all yet?”

  I held up my phone so he could see the black screen. “Turned it off before the Premiere and forgot to turn it back on. What about a walk on the beach? It seems pretty quiet here today and we can go through the headlines outside. I need some air.”

  “A walk sounds perfect.” He grinned and his left dimple popped for the first time since our impromptu Koreatown karaoke night.

  I left him downstairs with an order to clean up our breakfast and dashed upstairs to throw on some clothes. While I scrubbed off last night’s makeup and brushed my teeth, I took stock of my situation. I knew I looked the same as always—wavy brown hair, green eyes with a hint of dark circles and pale skin that should have been tan, considering I lived at the beach and loved being outside. But somehow, overnight, it felt like everything
had changed.

  My boring same-ol’ outside didn’t match my newly scrambled insides. I threw on my favorite pair of jeans and hurriedly tucked in a white T-shirt as I glanced down at the bracelets on my wrist. Still beautiful and still there, they were a symbol of the weird in-between place I seemed to have found myself in.

  “All right, let’s head out,” I called as I pulled on a hat and my sunglasses.

  “Aw, my little incognito beauty,” he said as he hugged me around the waist.

  I wiggled free and tried to pinch his cheek. Laughing, he ducked away, and it struck me how happy he looked. He was quietly glowing and his eyes were lit up from within, little flecks of gold standing out so brightly that I couldn’t understand how they weren’t his most commented-on feature. He looked completely relaxed and comfortable. All the lines on his face had suddenly smoothed out.

  I went up on my tiptoes to give him an impulsive kiss on the cheek. “You look pretty good yourself, my little low-key handsome movie star.” I headed for the back door while he stayed frozen in front of the mirror, staring at me in utter bemusement.

  “I can’t believe you kissed me—like it’s totally natural. I mean, being with you has always felt that way, but it’s so shocking to have you kiss me like it’s normal. Like we can do that now,” he said as he reached for my hand while I locked the door behind us.

  “I guess it’s our new normal, isn’t it?”

  The smile that blazed across his face almost blinded me. “It is.”

  Holding hands, we push-pulled our way to my back gate, neither of us letting go of each other, and finally stepped out onto the beach. I was teasing him about a really campy film he’d made a few years ago when he tackled me into the sand in retaliation.

  “Enough. My fragile ego can’t take it,” he groused as I spat sand at him. He rolled off, and I sat up and leaned into him.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, not quite contrite, while trying not to laugh.

  “You aren’t, but that’s okay. It was a shit movie. Really shit. I only did it because my little sister had a crush on the other male lead and she wanted to visit me on set.”

  “Such a good big brother.” I patted his cheek.

  “I am. Except he wanted to get off with me, not her, and I’d started dating Kate a few months earlier. Not a great scene. Ella, that’s my sister, was so sad.”

  “How much younger is Ella?” I gave up on brushing the sand off me and cuddled into him when he threw an arm around my shoulder. The morning breeze on the beach was a little chilly.

  “Oh, she’s two years younger. She has a twin brother, Max, who I’m not as close to. He’s running the family wineries. We don’t have a lot in common and my parents basically married him off to the daughter of another winery owner. I thought it was bullshit, but he’s always maintained that it was what he wanted.”

  “And you have another brother too, right? The soccer player?” I idly sifted sand through my fingers, surprised when I realized that this was the first time we’d really spoken about his family in any detail. Also slightly embarrassed that I knew so much about him—like everyone else in the country, I drank in the celebrity gossip about him and a select few others with my daily coffee.

  “Yeah, Matti. Matthias. He’s a lot younger, twenty-six, seven years between us. Not unwelcome, but certainly unexpected, as my mother calls him. Rory actually reminds me of him a bit. Totally unapologetic about who he is. Operates on instinct mostly. Smart guy, but doesn’t think he is.”

  “Interesting. You must be excited to see them.”

  “Definitely. It’s been almost a year and we’re—or we were, I guess—super close.” He stared out at the water.

  “Well, I’m jealous. I haven’t seen my sister in a few years. We’re estranged, you could say, ever since my parents passed away and she decided it was a good move to hook up with my boyfriend at the time. Out of grief, she said.” My voice was even, but I held my eyes wide open to avoid the inevitable tears that always rose to the surface when I thought about the open wound that was my family.

  Silence. I looked over and he was staring at me, stricken. “I’m so sorry, Alina. You told me that a while ago, but I don’t think I ever said that I was sorry.”

  “It was a while ago. I appreciate it, but it’s okay now.” I smiled at him and awkwardly punched his bicep.

  We sat and watched the ocean for a while before he elbowed me in the ribs.

  “Ouch! What?”

  “Get your phone, I need to show you the stuff from last night.” He gestured to my phone like “come on already you twit, don’t be a pussy.”

  After a brief pause, notifications burst across the screen. News, social media, emails, texts. It was an explosion of annoying chimes and whoosh noises. There were dozens of news alerts for my name, mostly from social media accounts and independent bloggers, although some had been picked up by the bigger publications like Star and the Daily Mail. I looked at those first. The conjectures of who I was, what Markus was doing with me and what Kate would think were to be expected, I guessed, but the sheer number of them was overwhelming.

  I was arrested by the pictures. There we were, in living color, sharing a secret smile as we waved to the media surrounding us. Even I could see the smoldering, possessive look in his eyes and the desire in my own. I sucked in a breath and glanced down at my bracelets, touching one pensively. I looked up at him, and he was giving me the same look as in the photos.

  It worried me, though, because I saw something that Markus didn’t see—or maybe didn’t want to see. The way we looked at each other, what was broadcast so clearly in both of our eyes, was more than desire. More than lust. Maybe it wasn’t love, but it was definitely something more than what was implied by a casual “let’s see how this goes.”

  “You see?” he said softly as he reached out to stroke the same bracelet, our fingertips brushing.

  I didn’t answer, instead looking back at my phone to screen the other notifications—hundreds of requests for comment and interviews, fan messages and scathing derision from fans of Kate.

  “Don’t read the comments,” Markus said hastily, trying to grab my phone from me. “First lesson my P.R. agent taught me, and she was dead right.”

  “Knock it off, grabby hands. I wasn’t going to, but I do need to lock down my accounts. Everyone can see the video Candace posted of me drunkenly doing karaoke to Livin’ on a Prayer,” I fretted.

  “Well, they’ll at least know that you have amazing taste in music,” he said as a smile broke through his overly solemn demeanor. “What did you think, though, of our photos and the articles?”

  “Um, I think we came off okay in the interview. Michael’s probably thrilled about all of the rumors that are going to swirl around the upcoming season,” I answered, looking around to make sure we were still alone, and mimicked him. “You know, Alina, any publicity is good publicity!”

  “I suppose he’s right, from a very specific point of view. Not necessarily ours though. But what did you feel when you saw us together? I know things got emotional last night, but look at how we started.” Markus pointed at the phone open on my thigh, frozen on a still image of us from the red carpet, completely focused on each other and no one else.

  I shied away from the response that I wanted to give, which was, ’We looked like we were seconds from tearing each other's clothes off and fucking on the red carpet in front of all of the photographers.’ Instead I simply said, “It was nice. We looked really nice together.”

  He flopped back in the sand, staring at me disbelievingly, hand grabbing his chest dramatically. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? Nice? Alina, I look like I’m about to slam you into the nearest wall and claim you in front of everyone. And you look like you’re daring me to do it.”

  “Oh, that? Right,” I said faintly as I tried to keep a straight face while a sudden heat wave swept over me and squeezed my legs together in a vain attempt to release the tension ratcheting up inside me.

 
; “Unbelievable,” he muttered. “Nice.” He shook his head and pulled away slightly, shifting his hips as though the sand were burning him. I looked down almost involuntarily and saw the cause of his discomfort.

  Following my eyes, he grimaced and pulled his knees up to his chest so he could wrap his arms around them. “So, do you want my team to go to work on anything? From my perspective, this isn’t that bad. But I’m not you and however you want to handle this is good with me.”

  “I think I’m okay, if you are. All the stories are pretty vague right now, just the pictures with us,” I said slowly. “Nothing’s too terrible and it’s not as bad as it probably could have been. I’ll start looking into my own reps, though.”

  Markus smiled at me and leaned over to brush a soft kiss on my temple. “If you’re sure, I’ll tell the team to stand down. If you want, I can ask them for some recommendations for agents to call. You should definitely have your own.”

  I nodded and relaxed into his warm embrace as a breeze kicked up around us and a few gulls cried out overhead, relishing the fact that this was our new normal and that he seemed as happy to be lost in it as I was.

  * * * *

  “Alina, you’re not playing fair!” Markus threw his cards at me.

  “What? Because you’re always drawing four?”

  It was late in the evening and we were playing Uno. Markus hadn’t realized that the ‘draw’ cards needed to be hoarded and played when his opponent was on the verge of winning.

  He glowered at me from his spot on the floor. “Yes. That.”

  I laughed and threw my cards at him from the other side of the coffee table. “Suck it.”

  His grouchy mood immediately disappeared as he grabbed a handful of cards, dove over the low table and shoved them down my shirt. I couldn’t stop giggling as I tried ineffectually to push his hands away from my body. “Stop, Markus! Gah! Fine, you win!”