by S. L. Scott
“She surmounts them.”
“With her true love.”
“You have a life full of people who care about you.”
She turns to me, finally looking me in the eyes. I can tell she’s been crying, but the tears stopped a while ago. “I don’t have anyone in my life that’s not on my payroll.”
It’s a sad statement about the life she’s created, so I try to redirect. “We only have five days left of shooting. We can wrap this film and all go home.”
“I have no real home.”
“You have a beautiful home in Los Feliz, Jessica. In five days, we can return to our homes, to our friends, and teams.”
“Something’s been bothering me since we last spoke.”
“And that is?”
“Tell me, Luke. What does she have that I don’t?”
I sit, but turn my gaze up and stare at the ceiling. She’s exasperating and obviously not going to do this film without a fight. “Who?” I ask, knowing full well who she’s referring to. I turn back to her keenly aware of her eyes on me.
“Jane Lewis, the one you can’t take your eyes or hands off.” She rolls her eyes to emphasize her annoyance.
This is a no-win for me. I won’t leave this room unscathed, but I’ll do whatever I need to make sure Jane’s reputation does. Stepping away from the comparison she wants me to make, I simply tell her the truth, “My heart.”
Forced tears trickle down her cheeks. I can remain here heartless or give in to what she needs right now—a friend. I move to the chair next to her because she needs someone to show they care, someone not on her personal payroll. I like to think beneath the heavy makeup and the diva attitude is a woman with a heart and soul who cares for others and not only herself.
In a broken tone, she says, “I’m leaving for LA in an hour.”
Bolting to my feet, I reply, “You can’t. You can’t leave this project.”
“I’m already out the door.”
“No, you’re right here. You just said you relate to the character. Be the character and bring Jude to life. Only you can do this, Jessica.”
“Spoken like a true producer. You only care about the movie. And to think I thought you were different.”
“I care about this project and everyone attached. They’ll lose their final paychecks. The movie can’t find a distributor if it’s not finished.”
“I have to put my mental well-being first.”
“No,” I demand. “You need to think of everyone else. They have families they need to feed, careers are on the line.”
“And what about you, Luke? What have you sacrificed?”
“Everything.”
“My car will be arriving in ten minutes. That’s ten minutes to change my mind.”
Pointing to the door, I say, “Those people are relying on you. You have a contract in place. Stay and see this through.”
“This is not a good environment for me.”
“Fine. Let’s make it good. Whatever you need, I’ll get it for you.”
“Promise?”
Third mistake—I fail to catch the devious glint in her eyes. “I promise. Just name it.”
“I’m tired of being alone.” All traces of tears gone, a wicked grin moves in.
I get up and walk to the window, praying she’s not saying what I think she is. “I know some great guys who would love to take you out. We’ll get back to LA and I can set you up.”
“I don’t want other guys. Don’t you see, Luke? I only want you.”
“Me? That makes no sense. What are you saying?”
“I want you to give me your heart like you gave it to Jane.”
“Jessica…” I sigh. “Don’t do this.”
“I have nothing to lose anymore and everything to gain.”
“Why do you want it? My heart is bruised and battered, completely broken.”
“It’s more whole than mine. Please, Luke, stay with me. I know I can finish this movie with you by my side, with you holding me at night so I can finally sleep.”
Jane. “You’re asking me to hurt someone on purpose. That’s the kind of man you want to be with?”
“I haven’t thought this through or planned this out. I just know I want to spend time with you.”
“What you’re asking is too much.”
“I have some events to attend when we return to LA and I’d rather not go alone. Simple appearances. Surely, you can do that for me after the favor I’ve done for you?”
“You needed this movie too, don’t forget. And I see through you. This is not about the movie. It’s about revenge and I refuse to hurt her because of some fantasy you’re holding on to.”
“Not even to save the movie?”
Fucking fuckity fuck fuck fuuuuuccck!
Thinking of Jane losing this movie, her future, her salary when she has nothing but a few boxes and two suitcases… If I lose my home, I have nothing to give her, she’ll have nowhere to go. I have to fight this. “I’m pleading with you. Please don’t do this, Jessica. It’s only five more days.”
“My mind is made up.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means if you want this project finished, we’ll finish it together or not at all.”
“You’re blackmailing me, threatening the future of this project, all because you want to spend time with me? That makes no sense.”
“I want more than time. I want something solid, something reliable. At least for a few weeks. It will help get the press and my father off my back. We’ll date and do those couple-y things real couples do, like go to dinner and the movies, dancing. We’ll be seen by the paparazzi and all will be good again for me.” Her gaze drops. When she looks back up, coy, the most foreign of emotions on her face next to innocence appears. “And if you want, we can make love again.”
After my eyebrows shoot straight up, I say, “Clearly it’s not love you’re wanting.”
“Fake it. You work in Hollywood. Fake it ’til you make it is our motto. You can do this.”
“And what if I refuse?”
“Goodbye, movie. Hello, rehab. I’m thinking I’ll stay in rehab for a longer stint this time. Maybe six months to a year.” She stands, light on her feet, her blackmailing scheme giving her confidence. “That means I can’t revisit the film until after and if I have other projects lined up… we just may never finish this movie.”
“We’ll sue.”
“Sue all you want. I’m well aware that my contract says I only have to pay twice my salary if I pull out during production.” She laughs. “I took a pay cut to be with you. Do you really think I don’t have half a million in the bank? I’ve been working since I was four, Luke. I could spend that in a day shopping on Rodeo Drive.”
A rotting sensation fills my stomach. She’s got me cornered. A woman with nothing to lose has everything to gain. I actually don’t think she hates Jane. She hates me, but will hurt Jane to make me pay. Turning my back to her, my thoughts scatter, searching for any out, anything I can think of, anything left that can give me a different outcome. But I’m not dealing with someone in her right mind, so nothing comes to mind. Except one…
I’m fucked.
It’s Jane or the movie.
From every angle, I’m fucked.
Jane doesn’t have to be. I can protect her. I can save her. Even at the expense of us. She’ll hate me. But, I can give her a future, solid footing in Hollywood that can lead to more work. She can buy a house, a condo, a place to call home. She can settle down with the dream I thought—hoped—I could give her.
Cold hands slide over my shoulders, thin arms wrap around my neck like a noose. A bony cheek is rested on my back. I have no idea why Jessica is doing this. Just to be manipulative? Some form of fucked-up control? Just for hateful kicks? Whatever the reason, Jane has to come first.
Jane. She’ll never forgive me.
The pain will engulf her, like it’s consuming me. But from the destruction of us, she can rise.
She will.
She has to.
I will do anything I have to so she does. I will do this. I will sell my soul to the devil, but I will never give her my heart. Jane will always own that. Reaching up, I cover Jessica’s hand with mine. The only choice I have.
The deal is done.
Fuck.
My.
Life.
CHAPTER 25
~Luke~
MY HANDS ARE sweating.
It’s hot in here, or it’s the fire flaming from the devil beside me, melting me from the inside out. I swipe the back of my arm across my forehead. I race through any other scenario, but there’s not enough time to map one out. There has to be other options. But I can’t seem to land on one that doesn’t destroy this project, thus destroying Jane’s future.
With her hand on the doorknob and a big grin on her face, Jessica turns and asks, “Are you ready?”
“It’s unprofessional to make a production of our personal lives.”
“Don’t try to get out of this. You agreed to three weeks.” She turns around and straightens my shirt like we’re a married couple. “Make it good, Luke, or I’m out of here.”
Five days of filming. Editing and voiceover work. Three weeks. “My word is good.”
“You haven’t given me your word.”
“And I won’t. But I want this movie made.”
She’s about to enter the living room, but stops to add, “If anyone, including your Janie, doesn’t believe we’re a couple, I will destroy you and this movie. It will never see the light of day, much less the inside of a theater. Are we clear?”
I nod, but that’s all I’ll give her. She’s stolen enough from me for a lifetime. “Before we go out there, tell me how this will ever make up for the real thing? It won’t. You know that, right? You’re acting like you believe we’re real, that an emotion other than hate can exist between us.”
“Hate is a strong word.”
“It’s the only thing I feel for you. You’re destroying lives, and for what? Gossip fodder? Hoping not to look half as desperate as everyone knows you are?”
“Don’t be cruel, Luke, or I’ll walk. Now put on a smile and make them believe.” She grits her teeth. “Better yet, make me believe.”
The door is opened and she walks out. “I’m ready, Ian. Let’s shoot this movie.”
Ian smiles, happier than I’ve ever seen him, and claps his hands together. “Good. Places, people. We’re in the home stretch. Let’s get this movie wrapped.”
I can’t even muster a fake smile. I feel sick as panic courses through my veins. Am I doing the right thing? Should her career highs come at the expense of Jane’s heart? Should, could, would doesn’t matter now. Jessica’s vengeance won’t be satiated until the spoiled princess gets what she wants. Of all the regrets I have—and I can count them on two fingers—sleeping with her is the biggest. I’d let Jane walk away a thousand times to find happiness without me if I could take back that one drunken night, not attend that party, to have stayed home and watched football instead.
But I had something to prove. I had to network and mingle with Hollywood’s elite. I had to schmooze with studio big wigs. I had to wine and dine the brightest stars in the film industry. I had…
I had…
I had…
I had to fill a void that the love of my life left inside me a year earlier…
The green eyes I thought I’d be waking up to for the rest of my life are braced on mine. We didn’t have a good night. We never got to talk, not like we should have. Today will be worse.
Stepping over large black cables and walking around the camera, I go to her hesitantly. I can’t manage to say anything, not sure where to start. We stand awkwardly next to each other for a few seconds until we blend in with the commotion of setting up for the next scene. When no one is watching, I turn to her, my knuckles brushing against the back of her hand, and savoring this lightest of touches while knowing it will be my last.
Her eyes are glassy, the lids swollen from a hard night. I briefly close mine to block out her pain. I have to do this. I have to turn off my heart and use my head. This is the only thing I can do—for her, for me, for this project and everyone working on it. She won’t understand now, but maybe one day. Maybe in three weeks. That’s not a long time. Maybe she’ll take me back…
No. There will be no maybe. She already struggled to trust me. With this, I’m done.
There won’t be any more chances.
I keep my tone steady, level, like my eyes are on her. Instead of looking at her, I try to see through her. I don’t want to see the soul that fills her eyes when she sees me, the me who can’t lie to her. She’ll see through me, through this story I’m about to tell. “We need to talk.”
After holding my stare, she blinks. “Okay.”
She knows what comes next. I can hear it in her voice—the soft quiver of an aching heart mixed with the tears I promised never to cause her caught in her throat. I don’t have to say the words for her to know. I’m sure she can hear it in mine—emotion kept at bay. My eyes are vacant without the beat of a pulsing heart to make them come alive.
The tension between us is palpable as we walk out of the apartment. The door is closed. She’s behind me, my strides longer than hers, but she’s there, keeping up. In the silence of the hallway, I hear each step we take, and her breath. The words float in my head forming into coherent lies to convince her that I no longer love her.
Three weeks will ruin the possibility of a lifetime. My house is meaningless without the prospect of her laughter to fill it, so I’ll do this for her, for her alone. We reach a corner near the stairwell and stop. I thought I could do this by sticking to a mental script, but her hair is messy in the most natural flattering way as if this goddess just wakes up this beautiful. I know firsthand she does, and I know this will be just as painful for me to do as it is for her to hear.
Standing in front of her, in front of the woman I love, I already feel empty.
There are moments that define who we are as people.
When I look down into her mournful eyes, I know this is the right thing to do. For her, this is it. For me, this is one of those moments.
My gulp is followed by one of hers. I open the stairwell door and she enters, passing without so much as a glance my way.
She knows.
The first few stitches used to heal my heart rip back open.
Act One.
She needs to believe the lie.
The metal door closes and we’re sealed inside, just like my fate. Jane sits on the top stair with her back to me, and says, “This is it.”
Her long hair trails down her back. It’s untamed and loose. Reaching out, I almost touch it, but I retreat to the corner holding myself to the white painted brick. My heart weakens as I gain momentum, reminding myself I must do this. I’ll do this for her. Anything to protect her. Anything. “Yes.”
The word vibrates, bouncing around the echoing chamber, and I start silently praying: Please don’t believe me, Jane. Please. You know you own my heart. You always have and always will.
Her shoulders shake, the smallest of movements, but I catch it. Her voice trembles. “I loved you.”
“I know.”
I’m determined for her to walk away hating me, hating us. I need her to move on from this stronger than when she came back into my life. It’s the only way I’ll know she believes me. Anything to protect her. All for her. I stare at her, wishing I could see her face.
Act Two.
Keeping her back to me, she stands, gripping the railing tightly with her right hand. “I hate you, Luke Anders.” She turns and when her eyes pierce mine, she repeats, “I hate you.”
One lie down, and I hate myself more.
“I know.”
This is all for you. All for you, Jane. I love you. I love you with every part of me, every part of my soul, and with my whole heart. When she leaves this place, she’ll take the best of me, and all my love with her.
And I’ll let her.
Her gaze falls, as do her shoulders, her hope crushed just like my heart. The job I came to do is done in two acts. Her future secured. She takes one step down, and then two more. Moving on shaky legs, she stops on the lower level and looks back up at me. “You’re not the man I used to know. Nothing about you is the same.”
She’s right. I’m nothing without her. I never was. As I stare into her eyes that used to see the good in me, I know she’s it. There will never be another for me. Against everything I believe, everything I love, I repeat, “I know.”
She walks down the next set of stairs. I hear the door two floors below open and then close loudly. I sink to the concrete, my knees wavering under my own heartbreak. I haven’t cried… I don’t even know when I last cried, but my eyes sting, burning like my soul.
I’m gone long enough for Jessica to be searching for me. The door to the apartment opens just as I arrive. “There you are. I need you.”
“For what?” I snap.
“To help me get into this scene.”
“Find Ryan.” I sidestep around her.
She stamps her foot. “Luke!”
“Don’t you ever say my name like that again.” My teeth clench.
“Don’t threaten me. We’re only fifteen minutes into our agreement. The hard part is done. You’ve handled it, now it’s time to move on with me.”
It? It… her… Jane. I think I’m going to be sick. “You know nothing about genuine feelings. The last time you felt anything in that black soul of yours is before your rich daddy bought you your first role to get you out of his hair.” I turn around to leave, but she grabs my arm. Leaning in, she says, “That’s strike one. Two more and I’m out of here.”
I want to tell her to fuck off, but I can’t. I can’t do that to Jane. She needs this movie. Pulling my arm away, I glare, and then leave.
Outside, I look in both directions before walking toward the river downtown. It’s humid, undecided if it wants to be hot or rain. Like me, the weather is caught up in its own turmoil.
Once I reach the bridge, I stand there lost—my soul feeling detached and aimless. I start walking again, wanting to find something that will guide me. I don’t find what I’m looking for, but I find a large Oak tree to lie under on the lawn of the Capital building.