by Natasha Boyd
“Did ... did you need to speak to me?” I sounded breathy and awful.
“Keri Ann?” Colt’s voice was behind me again.
Damn it!
Devon’s eyes cut over my shoulder. “Your boyfriend?”
“No!” I yelled vehemently. God. Colt heard that. I turned around to his shocked eyes, but I couldn’t do this right now. I needed to know why Devon was here. “I’m sorry, Colt. Please go on without me, I’ll be home when I’m done talking to Devon.”
“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “But, I’m not leaving. I’ll wait inside. Come get me when you’re,” his eyes flicked up and down Devon, “done here.”
But Devon had turned and started walking again. “Wait, please.” My voice caught over the last word.
Devon stopped and turned back. “I don’t think he knew he wasn’t your boyfriend.”
I shook my head. “It’s not like that. I mean, I know he likes me, but he’s also just a friend. I don’t ... I can’t ... ” Why were we talking about Colt, when I wanted to talk about Jack? And I did want to talk about Jack. I’d chased Devon out here because, before my head could catch up, my gut had instinctively reacted to my last lifeline walking out the door.
“Please. Is Jack ... Is he ... ” God, I didn’t know where to start.
Devon blew out a deep breath, and then nodded his head toward the closest table and chairs. We sat down in the dim lamplight. I shivered slightly in just my T-shirt and no sweater. I folded my arms across my chest, willing Devon to just start talking so I didn’t have to figure out what to ask. He did.
“Jack’s messed up,” he said quietly. “I don’t know if you read about it. The shit’s been all over the fucking internet already.”
I swallowed and tried to recall all the stuff Jazz had been trying to tell me that I didn’t want to listen to.
Devon looked at me as if trying to work out what to say. “Jack and Audrey are definitely over. It was a nightmare. Even Andy’s been fired. His agent.” I nodded. I knew who Andy was. “Something ... something happened. Audrey and his agent deceived him about something pretty big. They totally blindsided him.”
I knew how few people Jack felt he could trust, and my stomach flipped over for him.
“I ... ” my voice was scratchy. I tried again. “I didn’t read the story, a friend tried to explain today, but I didn’t believe it. Is ... is he okay?” My heart hurt.
Devon shifted forward, and resting his elbows on his knees, scrubbed a hand down his face. “Jack was devastated. We were all sitting around at their house when Andy just let slip—shit, I can’t tell you anything else. It’s not my place. But my God, the look on Jack’s face ... I mean I know he’s been acting a little off but,” Devon let out a rough breath, “I’ve never seen anything like it. It was eerie as shit.”
“Poor Jack,” I said, pained. God, I couldn’t imagine what a shock that must have been to learn your girlfriend and your agent were conspiring against you and treating you like some puppet. And for what? For money? I didn’t know what they could have done, but for Jack to fire his agent and break up with the mother of his baby, it must have been huge.
Jack and Audrey had clearly been back together for real. That Devon had said ‘their house’ wasn’t lost on me. I was glad I was sitting down, because my body was having trouble dealing with all of the reactions I was having to Devon’s words. I felt nauseous, weak, and again that feeling of dread was spreading through me like an oil slick.
“What did you mean, Jack’s been acting a little off?” While Devon was here, I felt like I needed to get as much information as I could. It was idiotic, I knew. I had avoided any news about Jack for so long as a way to try and get past him, and now I was doing the exact opposite. It didn’t make sense. And why was Devon here? “And why are you here?”
Devon looked up at me long and appraisingly. “I really shouldn’t be having this conversation with you. I haven’t told you anything you couldn’t have read about, though. To be honest, I’m not sure why I came. I was curious, that’s all.”
“Curious? About what?” I twisted my fingers, nervously.
Devon’s eyes dropped to my hands, then came back up to mine. I had the feeling he had just edited what he was about to say. “I was curious about whether Jack would come back here.”
My breath left me, involuntarily. “Why ... why would you think he would come back here?” I tried really hard to take any kind of emotion out of that question, and it only left a whisper.
Devon was looking at me hard, as if trying to answer that for himself. It made me uncomfortable, and it made me feel like ... less. He took a deep breath as if reaching a decision.
“Jack left right after he fired Andy. He could have been here by now.” He looked at me straight in the eyes. “This is where I heard him tell Katie he needed to go.” My heart hammered harder. “And this is, based on some of the things he’s shared with me, where I expected him to go.”
I hadn’t realized how tightly I was wound until Devon said those words, and a small sob tore out of me. I took a deep, unsteady lungful of air and tried to blink back the tears pooling in my eyes.
Devon immediately grabbed my hand and hung on, squeezing tight, as I breathed through it and brought myself under control. “Shit,” I blew out another breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I needed to know it wasn’t one-sided. That it was real for you. And I think you’ve just set my mind at ease.”
I could feel the elation, the confirmation I had meant something to Jack, trying to spread its rays through me, but the scared and terrified dark part of me I had been fighting with since Jazz’s text this morning wouldn’t let go.
What if it wasn’t enough? What if I wasn’t enough? It was one thing to fixate on a girl you thought embodied all you felt like you were missing in your life. Especially when you were trapped there. But when all the bars had gone, and all the steel doors had been unlocked, did you really need the girl? What if she was just a symbol of hope and not a destination?
“But he didn’t come here, did he?” I asked Devon.
He looked at me, sadly, and my heart plummeted. “No, he didn’t. Not yet, anyway. But, Keri Ann—” he seemed to struggle with what to say or maybe how to say it. “I feel pretty sure he will.”
I swiped at my eye. “How?” How on earth could Devon be sure? Or was he just trying to spare my feelings? If Jack was coming right away, why wasn’t he here yet?
He let out a deep chuckle. “Well, now I’ve met you, I guess. I don’t know how I know. I just do. And the fact that, when I told you about the shit that went down, your first reaction was compassion for Jack and not happiness he was free, means you have definitely earned my trust. I ... ” He stood up and I followed suit. “I hope you two manage to work it out somehow. I can’t imagine it’s going to be easy.”
Well, it wasn’t a ringing endorsement, but it was more than I’d had when I woke up this morning. I held out my hand. “We’ve never formally been introduced. Keri Ann Butler. Waitress slash soon-to-be art student. I hope. And friend of Jack’s.”
Devon gave a half smile and took my outstretched hand and shook it. “Devon Brown. Producing, for now, while I figure out what I want to be when I grow up. And friend of Jack’s.”
“Nice to meet you, Devon.”
“Likewise, Keri Ann.” He gave a small nod.
“Okay, well, I better go and get Colt. I’m late for my own birthday party.” I grinned sheepishly.
Devon’s eyebrows raised. “It’s today? Well, happy birthday. I hope you get everything you want this year.”
“Me too,” I said. I really did. “And, Devon? Thank you.”
J A C K
I saw that diamond road
And I took it
I made a lot of friends
But they were crooked
A cold hand reached out
And I took it
I made so many mistakes
Now it’s too late
/> To put ’em right
In the high twilight
- Lyrics from High Twilight by Daniel Isaiah
T H I R T Y – S E V E N
I’m good at compartmentalizing. You have to be in my profession. As long as the cameras are rolling, you are someone else. Living like someone else, thinking like someone else, reacting like someone else. I’ve learned how to convey a thousand conflicting emotions without uttering a single word. I can also hide a thousand conflicting emotions in a lead-lined fortress, while chatting amiably with whoever needs a piece of Jack.
Right now, I’m sitting in a chair in a back room at True Tattoo while Nick Parker uses his needle and ink to pry me open. Nick and I were a two-pack of trouble on the streets of New York before we decided to stop giving our mothers’ short trips to early graves and move to L.A. He was the only one who knew about my father. Now, he is one of two.
And he won’t fucking shut up.
“So Loggerhead Turtles are mostly native to the Georgia and Carolina coasts, did you know that?”
I don’t grace him with an answer as he shades away at the scutes on my foot.
“And you know after they are born there, it doesn’t matter how far and wide they swim and for how many years, they go back to the same freaking beach?”
“What the fuck is your point, Nick?” I say, focusing on his wall display so I don’t see the beach in my mind’s eye.
“Nothing, man. It’s just interesting you’ve chosen to put a tiny sea turtle on your foot. Not a big old Pacific Leatherback either.” He shifts his angle slightly, and I wince as the needle moves over a particularly sensitive tendon.
I breathe out and fold my arms over my chest. I have a ton of shit to do today, including having seventy people over to my house for a final thank you as we wrap up the Erath tour. I must have been crazy to try and slide in and out of Nick’s space without his irritating questions. My head is aching behind my eyes. All I want to do is get shit-faced.
Nick creases his brow in concentration that doesn’t synch up with his leaking opinions. “After they hatch, they can get distracted by bright and artificial lights and instead of meeting their destiny, they are lured to their deaths.”
“Jesus, Nick. What the hell is your problem?” I am pissed off. “Are you done yet?”
He smirks. “Not even close. Do you need her initials on it, or what?”
I grit my teeth. “No, Nick, I don’t,” I say calmly. Even though I do, actually. I’m not sure why. It’s not like I won’t be reminded every time I look down. Or any time at all. I quickly stick to my original plan. “Actually, yes. Do it. Hurry up about it, and let’s go next door and get a drink.”
“Okay, man. I just can’t work out whether you’re supposed to be the turtle or she is. It’s bugging me.”
“For the last time, shut the fuck up.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket. Ignoring Nick’s no cell phone rule, I pull it out gingerly, trying not to move.
Devon Brown.
“Hey, D. You’re still coming tonight, right?” I greet him with the question, knowing full well he’ll be there. Erath was his puppy after all. I just need the reassurance. I can’t stand these industry backslapping events. The fact that Audrey offered to do it at home, instead of some restaurant, just shows how far apart she and I are these days. I need someone there on my side.
“Of course. Where are you? I want to talk to you about a new project and won’t be able to do it tonight.”
“Nick’s giving me another memento. We’re about to go next door and get a drink. Join us?”
“I’ll never understand your obsession with permanent ink. It’s a nightmare for makeup. I’ll be there in twenty.” He hangs up.
I realize I’ve been drinking a lot lately, but I can’t seem to muster the energy to care. I can write it off to jetlag most of the time, but Audrey knows. We have done about seventeen countries in the last thirty days. At times, I feel like we are getting back to the friendship we used to have before it all became so complicated. I know she wants us to be more again, especially for the baby’s sake. I’m trying.
“I’m done. The initials are designed into the scutes on the shell so you can’t really see them unless you know they’re there,” Nick says, scooting his stool backward. I look down at the creature on my foot. It’s tiny and beautiful. Nick is an artist. It doesn’t make me feel better. But then again, it is more to remind me everyday how easy it can be to take advantage of someone, so that I never do it again. Maybe it’s so that I can focus on providing my son or daughter some sense of honor. Honor that I don’t have.
* * *
I stand at the railing of my house, looking out over the valley to the Pacific Ocean as the sun sets. A glass of champagne dangles from my fingers. I’m tense but trying to look relaxed. Voices and laughter of mingling sycophants swirl around behind me, every sound another bar on this clichéd cage of mine. I drain the glass and let it slip out of my hand. It satisfies me to see it shatter on the rocky scrag of the hillside below. I’m wallowing. It doesn’t become me.
I mentally prepare, and school my features, getting ready to turn around and become the carefree, successful, and handsome host once again. It has been a tiring evening, the last five minutes the only ones I’ve had to myself. Hopefully, this is one of the last parties for Erath I’ll have to do now that the promotional tour is reaching its end. Endless photo-shoots, interviews, and staged outings with Audrey are finally slowing down.
It was Audrey’s idea to host the party for Andy and some of the studio executives who had first championed the Erath script. It isn’t that I’m not thankful and grateful to these people, but I also know that they depend on me just as much, if not more. Especially now. Inviting them all into my home is too much of an invasion for where my head is.
Audrey wasted no time moving back in here after I pulled the house off the market. I know she needs to show everyone things are fine between us.
I try to stay engaged with her when we are in public, and the effort is exhausting. And I know I have to start trying harder when it’s just the two of us, especially for the baby’s sake.
It helps that I can still pretend it was her public indiscretion that is taking me some time to get over, especially after the tabloids spun my drunken brawl in Savannah as me dealing with my heartbreak. How close they were ... just the wrong girl.
Only Audrey knows the real reason for that incident, and she wastes no time being the perfect, fawning girlfriend. It is nauseating, but I feel sorry for her.
I think of my mother trying to bring me up alone, and I know Audrey is trying her best to repair the damage before the baby comes. I don’t fault her for it. I admire her. It’s a baby. Who wouldn’t do their absolute best to create a perfect environment?
At any moment, I expect Audrey will start the argument that it’s time to make a public announcement. I’m dreading it. I know it’s necessary, but—and I don’t like my mind going there—it will be national and international tabloid news that won’t miss Butler Cove.
“Hey, man.” My agent’s voice accompanies his hand clapping down hard on my back, making me jump.
“Hey, Andy.” I affect a friendly grin; it is what I do best, after all.
“Great party, my man. The latest numbers are in, they’re making an announcement in a moment, come on.”
Andy, dressed in a light grey suit and white shirt open at the collar, highlighting his ruddy complexion, manages to look like a perfect mix of managed stress and competence like he’s just been working his ass off to secure my latest success. Slightly balding, he wears his hair buzzed close to his scalp and stands about a foot shorter than my six-foot-two frame.
“Ja-ack!” Audrey’s voice lilts from behind us. We turn. She is beautiful in a sheer white dress with a small modest slip beneath, her hair flowing in dark waves over a shoulder. For a moment, I’m reminded of a certain white bikini cover-up that didn’t really cover anything up. I flinch under the memory and
swallow, and then I lean in for a kiss.
“You look beautiful, and we’re coming,” I say. I take her hand, and the three of us walk inside to hear the latest gross earnings from the movie that has just been released in three eastern European countries. There have been numbers announced after each opening weekend and there will be many more releases, although no more requiring a personal appearance from any cast members, thank God.
There is a lot of backslapping and raising of glasses as the numbers are announced. It should make me especially happy since I agreed to a royalty payment structure, instead of a one-time payment back when hardly anyone believed in the success of the project. It was Devon who advised me to take that route, and it has been the best financial decision of my career.
Devon comes up to me as the announcements and toasting subsides. “Jack, good to see you, man. How’s the foot?” He gives me a brief hug like he didn’t just see me four hours ago. Devon is the only person, apart from what little Nick knows, that I have confided in. Not much to either of them, but some. It was Devon’s friendship and generosity with his beach house that allowed me to get away in the first place. It is also in Devon’s best interest with Peak Entertainment to keep Audrey’s and my relationship on the rails.
“Fine.”
Devon shrugs. “Anyway, we need to talk about scheduling for the Dread Pirate Roberts project. I’m so psyched you agreed to take the role. I told Monica you wouldn’t take it, and then when you accepted today—you realize you owe me a blowjob. Right?”
“What?” I laugh. It feels good.
“Yeah, man. That’s what I said I’d give up if she was right.”