“I’ll leave that to you. Before family dinner would be fine.”
“Ow, fuck!” Duke’s voice echoes from the house and we both wince.
“I’m gonna go see what he dropped on his foot.”
“Shoulda let him get dressed,” I call over my shoulder as she starts back up the stairs.
Matt
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
I come back from lunch to hear Jeremy Cutler’s raised voice echoing through the set. Motherfucker.
I stop dead in my tracks when I hear Elspeth yelling back. “—sixteen years old!”
“It’s none of your goddamn business!” he roars.
I practically run around the corner to find them right up in each other’s faces. “What’s going on here?”
Els glances over at me. “Ask this asshole.”
“I’m asking you both.”
Cutler points a finger at her. “Get off my set.”
“Fine.”
“Els—” I reach for her as she brushes past me.
“No. You talk to him.”
“What the hell is going on? You can’t fire Elspeth.” I turn on Cutler.
“My personal life is none of her business.” He crosses his arms over his chest and glares at me. “Or yours.”
“And your personal life involves someone who is sixteen years old?”
His gaze flickers to the side, and that’s when I see our teenaged lead actress, Hannah, sitting on the couch, crying. Oh shit.
I turn to her. “What did he tell you? You’re mature for your age? How wonderful it is to work with you? How he doesn’t normally sleep with actresses, but you’re so special?”
She pulls at the sleeves of her sweater and looks down at her feet. Goddamn it. I knew Cutler was an asshole, but this goes beyond being a dick to his co-workers. This is predatory. Bile rises in my throat. “You motherfucker.”
“I’m not sleeping with him,” Hannah says. “We just made out a few times.”
Jesus, as if that isn’t bad enough? “Why don’t you excuse us for a minute? Call your mother.”
She scowls at me. “You’re going to tell my mom?”
“No, sweetheart, you are. Because she’s going to hear about it one way or another, trust. You want her to find out from people gossiping?”
She shakes her head. “She’s going to be pissed.”
“Not at you.” I glare at Cutler as she picks up her handbag and walks off set. Then I turn to face him. “You’re going to quit. Today. You’re going to call Ben Horvath and tell him this project isn’t working out.”
“The fuck I am.”
“If you don’t, I will. And I’ll tell everyone who will listen that I quit because I won’t work with a goddamn pedophile.”
“She’s sixteen, man. Come on.” He laughs nervously and I want to punch his smarmy mouth.
“Don’t. Don’t you dare. I will ruin you. I hope every fucking one of them comes forward and presses charges.”
“Every one? Dude—”
“Don’t you ‘dude’ me. I don’t believe for a second that she’s the only one. Call Ben. Or I will.”
He walks away.
Have I changed anything? I don’t fucking know. But I can’t just do nothing.
I call Elspeth. “Hey,” she answers, her voice exhausted.
“I told him if he didn’t quit I would. And I’d tell everyone why.”
“I’m in Hannah’s trailer. Her mom’s here. I’m pretty sure you’re not going to have to make good on that threat. What I don’t know is if any of us are going to have jobs tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry, Els.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“Getting you involved in this project. I had no idea.”
“Yeah, well, if you hadn’t maybe there wouldn’t have been anyone on set to give a shit. People are really good at not seeing the obvious when it comes to these creeps.”
“Is she okay?”
“What do you think? She’s mad and embarrassed. No, she’s not okay.”
“Can we do anything?”
“I think you’ve done a lot already—let’s let her and her mom figure out what they want to do next, okay?”
“Okay.” Sick to my stomach and helpless, I hang up the phone. I call Trent, but his phone goes straight to voicemail. Then I remember the time difference and the fact that he’s probably in bed. Damn.
My phone rings. Not Trent. Ben Horvath.
“Mr. Horvath.”
“Can you run this show, Matthew?”
His abruptness takes me by surprise, and I’m speechless for a moment. “Yes. It won’t look like something Jeremy Cutler made, though.”
“I have a daughter.”
“I know, sir. I met her at the wedding.”
“I was glad she didn’t go into this business. But we have a responsibility to the people who work for us. We have a responsibility for other people’s daughters and sons too.”
“Yes, sir.”
“If you would rather I hire someone else as the show runner to replace Jeremy, I can do that. But I would appreciate it if it were you.”
“I want Elspeth Todd as my DP.”
“Consider it done. Thank you, Matthew.”
“Sir.”
He hangs up, and I let out a sigh of relief. We all still have jobs. For now.
I track down one of the guys on the sound crew and tell him to get everyone on set for an announcement. I need to tell them that Jeremy is gone. And I need to set a new tone for the production. If I can do one thing, it’s make the set a better place. I may not be an auteur. But I ain’t a dick either.
Chapter Ten
Tiffani
The Spring Fair is part farmer’s market, part carnival, and part craft show. There are rides for the kids, seedlings and heirloom seeds for sale, fried food on sticks, and local artists selling the products of their winter labors. My siblings and I arrive early in the afternoon, because part of the fun is walking around and catching up with old friends. Tegan and Tanner split off from Tyler and me, making their way to the greenhouse.
“What do you want to do first?” I turn to Tyler. “Are we too old for the Ferris wheel?”
He laughs. “There’s someone I want to see. Come on.”
We walk past the Ferris wheel and the scrambler and wind our way through food stalls, the air thick with the smell of frying oil.
“Drink tickets?” a familiar voice calls from behind us, and we turn. Brendan. He’s lost the blue contacts that made him look like the star of a science fiction show. The effect is soft and approachable, but there’s something guarded and pained in his expression when he looks at Tyler.
Ty smiles like it hurts. “Hey, Brendan.”
This is not who he was making a beeline to see, apparently.
“You could have called, man. There’s like eight queer guys in town. You didn’t have to ghost me.”
“I’m sorry. I’m an asshole.”
“Yeah, you are.” Brendan approaches us warily, tossing a “Hi, Tiffani” my way, without breaking eye contact with Tyler.
“Hi.” I glance between them as Brendan touches my brother’s face, and Ty hangs his head and closes his eyes. He murmurs something I can’t hear, apparently for Brendan’s ears only, and Brendan’s hand slides to the back of his neck. They touch foreheads, and Brendan whispers something back before stepping away.
“How many drink tickets do you want?” Brendan asks me.
“How much?”
“Five each.”
I fish a couple of twenties out of my pocket and hand them over. “Eight.”
“Gotta mark you.” He holds up a stamp, and I hold out my hand, nudging Ty to do the same.
He stamps both of our hands, then hands over the
drink tickets, which I shove at Tyler to hold. “Craft brew tent is all the way on the other side of the field. Vineyard tent is on the other side of that. Do you need a map?”
Tyler laughs. “I think we’re good.”
“Enjoy.”
“What did you do to that poor guy?” I ask Tyler as we continue toward whoever it is he needs to see.
“You heard him. I ghosted him.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m an asshole.” He walks faster.
“Why, Tyler?” I grab his shoulder and spin him around.
“Because I wanted someone else. And I didn’t think it was fair to string him along, but I’m not good at ending things. What the hell do you want me to say? I fucked up and hurt people. I feel like shit about it.”
“Who else?”
He shakes his head. “Tiffani, can you please leave it alone? Please?”
“Fine. But I’m disappointed in you.”
“Yeah, me too.”
He turns and starts walking again. I glance over my shoulder at Brendan, now stamping the hands of a pair of redneck girls in booty shorts, and then I follow my brother.
I catch up to him at the Royal Historical Society booth, where he’s talking to Mac, of all people. Mac gestures at an iPad on the table, and Tyler picks it up and does something with it, then hands it back. “All fixed.”
“Thanks, Ty. We appreciate your help. Hey, Tiffani.”
“Hey.” I glance at Tyler.
“I set up a mailing list for them. To help with fundraising.” He smiles bashfully. “They can sign up volunteers, donors, whatever, right here from the fair. But their sign-up template wasn’t loading right.”
“Wow, that’s really cool, Ty. I didn’t know historical preservation was your jam.”
His smile falters and he shrugs. “Mac needed help. Anyway.” He nods at Mac. “I’ll see you around.”
“See y’all.”
My phone buzzes as we walk away, and I dig it out of my purse. Matt.
Hey. We just parked.
We. Him and his friend Elspeth the Talented. I’m not jealous in any tangible way I can put my finger on, but something about how he talked about her annoyed me—and that makes me uncomfortable and embarrassed. Why, though? It’s not like I want to be with him or even like he wants to be with her.
Tyler and I are headed to the craft beer tent. See you there.
“Let’s go get a drink.”
Somehow, they beat us to the beer tent. They must have walked the other way, because as we approach, Matt and his friend are having their hands stamped by a girl selling drink tickets.
“Tiffani Ellis.” I look up at my name, and there’s Matt’s mom, in a T-shirt that reads No One Is Illegal on Stolen Land.
“Mrs. Adams, hi. Matt didn’t tell me you were coming.” I reach for her, and she gives me a brusque hug, clapping me on the back.
“It’s good to get out of the house and annoy the neighbors.” She rubs the back of her shaved head.
“Amen.”
“Tiffani, this is Elspeth.” Matt smiles as he introduces us. “Els, this is Tiffani and her younger brother, Tyler.”
Elspeth is tall and blonde, the kind of person it seems the word willowy was invented for. She leans in and brushes a kiss on my cheek, then does the same with Tyler. “Great to meet you.”
“Same,” I mumble.
“How’ve you been?” Matt turns his attention on me, and it makes me weak in the knees. Ever since the night I asked my family if we could sell the house, the night he consoled me with Cheerwine and The Fifth Element, I’ve been hyperaware of my attraction to him. He’s dressed for comfort—jeans old and worn, hugging his thighs in a way that highlights their size, T-shirt tight around his shoulders—and I’m sure he has no idea how sexy he looks. He’s always self-deprecated about being nerdy—as if his glasses could hide the strength in his shoulders or the way his body feels under my hands. As freaking if.
“Um, I’m good. You?”
“It’s been a weird week. Can we talk privately? Or, at least, alone?”
Surprised, I nod. “Of course, what’s up?”
“We’ll see you at the bar.” Elspeth loops her arm through Tyler’s and gives us a wave. We stroll out away from the tents toward the fence bordering the fairgrounds, and we make our way along it.
“Um, something happened at work this week. It was bad, and our show runner was forced out. We’ve been able to keep it quiet for the past few days, but there’s going to be a lot of bad press very soon.” He says it all in a rush, as if he’s rehearsed it and he’s nervous.
“Oh. Is everything okay?”
He shakes his head. “I mean, yeah. I’m good. But Elspeth caught Jeremy making out with a sixteen-year-old actress, and he tried to fire Els to keep her quiet. I threatened him. I’m the one who forced him out.”
Oh. Oh. “Is she okay—the actress?”
He nods. “Embarrassed, and angry, but I think after talking to Els and her mom, she’s pointing the anger in the right direction. She’s talking to a lawyer. Which, I don’t know what that means for the production, but the co-exec who hired me is on her side.”
Pride for him bursts over me, and it’s a puzzling feeling. I’ve gotten so used to hating him that liking him is throwing me for a loop. “Good. That girl needed people to stand up for her. You and Elspeth did that.”
“Yeah. We did what we could. And her mom has her talking to someone, and I think Els is checking up on her.”
“You did good, Matt. You’ll weather the bad press.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that. I just—I didn’t want you to hear about it from someone else. Or see it in the checkout line of the grocery store. The guy was a big deal.”
Of course he was. “They always are. Who’s going to take over?”
He snorts and raises an eyebrow at me. “Who do you think?”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah.”
“Well. I guess you’re a big deal now.”
“Nah, I’m still just nerdy Matt Adams from Royal, Georgia. Gonna go to the fair with this pretty freckled girl I like and buy her a beer. Then we’re gonna watch a demolition derby and eat fried foods and then sneak off and make out in my Chevelle.”
“Oh, we are, are we?” I snort and smack his arm. “You live a rich fantasy life.”
“Okay, so maybe not the making out in my Chevelle. But can I buy you a beer?”
“Lead the way.” I follow him back to the beer tent, mulling my own behavior over the last several weeks. When I look at the way I’ve spoken to him, the way I’ve treated him, I’m not sure I like myself very much. And while I tell myself I’ve only treated him this way because of the way he hurt me, I’m not sure “he made me this way” is a good look. Either I let him turn me into a person I don’t like very much—or I have to make peace with who we both are now.
Matt
Elspeth, Tyler, and Mom have claimed a long picnic table in the middle of the tent, and when Tiffani and I join them, Els hands me a dark beer to try. “Mole porter. It’s spicy.”
I take a sip, and it tingles on my lips and tongue. I try not to make a face, but Mom laughs at me, so I don’t think I’m successful. I point at her drink. “What’s that?”
“Belgian wit. You want to try it?”
I shake my head. “Nah, I’m gonna go explore and see what looks good. Ani, you want to come with?”
Tiffani startles at the nickname, and I realize it’s the first time since I came home that I’ve called her that in front of other people. “Yeah, let’s walk.”
We end up at a stall for a brewery from North Carolina run by a pair of brothers who finish each other’s sentences and laugh like it’s contagious, and take one each from their taps.
“Have you found someone to crew for you?” she a
sks, wiping away a beery mustache as we walk back to the picnic table. “I mean, not like it’s been a typical week with your coworkers or whatever, but the race in Mooresville is coming up.”
Ah, yes. The race in Mooresville. I take a sip of my own beer, a tart barrel-aged saison, and squint sideways at her. “I don’t suppose...”
“Matt.”
I fucking love the way she says my name. “It would be really fun.”
“I don’t even like you.” She glares at me over her beer, but there’s a hint of a smile lurking behind it.
“I’ll let you drive to North Carolina.”
“You mean you’ll let me drive a Home Depot rental pickup with a U-Haul trailer? Wow, Adams, you really know how to appeal to my baser instincts.”
“Hey—I’ve got a friend lending me a truck and trailer. It’s nice.”
“And your friend won’t crew for you?”
Considering my “friend” is actually the production company, and I only got them to sign off on it by agreeing to shooting some background footage in the mountains, I think that’s a hard no. “Please?”
She blows out a breath and shoots me another glare. “Your car deserves better than you.”
“That’s why I’m asking you.”
And I know I’ve got her when she starts laughing. “Fine. But you have to pay me.”
“How much?”
“We’re not negotiating. I’ll put it on your tab at the shop.”
And yeah, I can deal with that. Money isn’t exactly something I worry about. My dad is fuck-you-money rich and I don’t even have to talk to him to reap the benefits of that. The years of fancy private schools, a donation to the right people at Columbia when I was applying for colleges, a settlement when he divorced my mom, those things have all given me security. That security gave me the choice to take a chance on a career in movies. And to have expensive hobbies like racing muscle cars. And Ani, who was my closest friend when my family fell apart, she knows all of that.
“Deal.”
She rolls her eyes and sits down next to Tyler at the picnic table, where our group has been joined by the rest of the Ellis siblings.
Flying Gold Page 9