Jules was hiding his smile behind his hand. “Sex in the office,” he said. “That’s…so not Alyssa.”
Sam nodded. “Little Miss Do-No-Wrong is very happily breaking some of her rules. Thank God.”
They sat in silence for a moment, just sipping their coffees, Jules not eating the cookie he’d bought. He looked tired, as if he still wasn’t doing too well when it came to sleeping.
Of course, the potential problems in A-stan were adding to his tension—to Robin’s as well. It was going to be rough for Robin when Jules went back out into the field. Sam’s own anxiety levels had been through the roof when Alyssa had gotten back into the game after a near-death experience.
“Your turn,” Sam finally broke the silence.
Jules looked up at him. “You really want to hear this?” he asked.
“Is it more embarrassing than me not having the sense to know that Alyssa would never want to not have sex?” Sam asked him.
Jules managed a smile. “It might be.”
“Well, good,” Sam said. “Then I won’t be the only fool sitting at this table.”
Jules cleared his throat. “I’ve been trying really hard not to let it bother me,” he said. “The fact that Robin’s playing this character. Joe.”
“You haven’t talked to him about this?” Sam couldn’t believe they were still dragging that shit through the mud. “What’s wrong with you? I thought talking things out came with the gay gene.”
“I’m afraid to bring it up,” Jules admitted. “And it just keeps getting more complicated. Joe Laughlin’s a great role—I see that, I know that. I just…It was different when Robin was Jeff O’Reilly. Yes, he did a lot of love scenes, but it was always with women and…”
“Now he’s doing it with men,” Sam said. Okay, bad word choice. “Acting,” he reiterated. “He’s not really…You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, thanks so much. But you’re right—it is acting. I know that. I do.” So why was he saying it as if he were trying to convince himself? Jules went on. “And the pilot hasn’t been sold yet, it may not even be bought so…Who am I kidding?” He rolled his eyes. “If it doesn’t get picked up by HBO, Showtime’s gonna grab it. Robin is amazing. And, Sam, God, I know that he loves me.”
“But?” Sam asked.
And Jules nodded. There was definitely a but. “It began a couple weeks ago,” he continued. “After they started filming the pilot. I came home to pick up a file and Robin was there. He was in the shower and…” He smiled. “Inopportune’s not in his vocabulary either.”
He paused, and Sam just waited.
“So,” Jules finally said. “It was…unbelievably hot, and kind of rough—not in an I’m going to hurt you way, but more like I need you right now. It was, um…extremely erotic. He was totally in charge, right from the start when he…” He cleared his throat. “Literally ripped off my shirt.”
Ee-doggies. Sam found it best to stare at his feet. This all fell into the column under the heading things about Jules that he really didn’t want to picture. He had asked, but yeesh.
“Sorry if that sounds like TMI,” Jules apologized, “but it pretty much happened again when I got home later that night and it was…just as great. And Thursday was…also really, really… Just trust me. It was…Past two weeks, just…crazy great sex.”
“I’m still struggling,” Sam said carefully, “with the concept of this being a problem for you.”
“It’s a problem,” Jules said a touch snittishly, “because I finally watched one of the DVDs that Robin brought home. It was a promo for the show and…” He laughed, but it was with despair. “It was so good. Scary good. But there was this one sequence—it was really well done, nicely edited, but oh my God, Sam. It was Robin. Just…cut after cut of him…kissing and then ripping the shirts off of all these different guys, like he’s getting ready to have—guess what?—kinda rough, very hot sex with them.”
He broke a piece off of his cookie but he didn’t eat it, he just crumbled it.
“The stupid thing is,” Jules continued quietly, “that it really worked, you know, to show that the character, Joe, is both promiscuous and desperate. It was like…the sex is virtually identical in all of these snippets of scenes, but his partners are different, like they’re on a conveyor belt—just one after another—and Jesus, watching it bothered me.”
Sam shifted in his seat. “You don’t think that Robin really—”
“No,” Jules said. “I know he was acting, but…” He exhaled hard. “All I could think was, this was what he was doing all day that first time that we…That he…I thought he was hot for me, but hey, maybe he was just hot. Yeah, we had great sex, but look what he did, first, with a dozen other guys. I guess that pretty much got him primed.”
Damn. “I’m not an actor,” Sam said, “so I don’t have a clue how actors do this kind of thing, you know, separate the fiction from reality, but Jules, it’s part of the gig. At the risk of sounding like a fucking broken record, man, you’re going to have to talk to him about this. This is not just you being a little irrational and getting jealous because, well, face it, you happen to be wired for jealousy. This is something you need to handle, either by saying Have you thought about a career in landscaping—”
“I can’t do that,” Jules said tightly.
“Sure you can.”
Jules rephrased. “I won’t, okay?”
“Okay.” It wasn’t as if Sam hadn’t expected that response. “Then you’re going to have to educate yourself. Talk to other actors before you talk to Robin if you think that’ll help. There are lots of actors out there who go to work every day and lock lips with someone who isn’t their significant other. And despite all the Hollywood fuckups out there, there are plenty of couples who make it work. But bottom line? You’re eventually going to have to talk to Robin. I don’t know him all that well, but I do know that the last thing he’d ever want is to hurt you.”
“And vice versa.” Jules sighed, and his body language was so tense that Sam braced himself. There was something else that he hadn’t yet revealed. “This is going to sound weird, but…Ever since he started filming the new pilot, Robin has…seemed different. Just a little, and…Okay, I’m just going to say it.” He took a deep breath and exhaled hard. “I think, for the past two weeks I may have been having sex with Joe Laughlin.”
For a second, Sam didn’t know what the fuck Jules was talking about. And then he got it. Joe Laughlin as in Robin’s character. Robin’s fictional character.
This entire situation was getting more and more tangled in a knot, because Sam realized what Jules had told him. “Best sex of your life,” he repeated. As in even better than the sex Jules had been having when Robin was just Robin.
“Yeah,” Jules said a tad sharply, probably due to the amusement Sam hadn’t kept from his voice. “How do I start that conversation? Hey, babe, would you mind very much bringing your work home with you tonight?”
Sam couldn’t help it. He began to laugh. “I don’t want to piss you off, Squidward. And I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but is it possible that this isn’t really a problem?”
Jules had so clearly lumped everything about Robin’s acting career into the con side of their relationship. He needed to dust some of this shit off and look at it a little more closely. Because in Sam’s book—which was a clearly hetero tome, which might have made a difference, although he doubted that—this was not just something for the pro column, but a big, happy plus, with a check mark, four hearts and a smiley face all written next to it.
“People role-play all the time,” Sam told his friend. “You know. In the bedroom. Maybe you should step back and try to look at this from a different perspective.”
“Role-play,” Jules repeated, and it was so obvious from his frown that he was stuck here in this dark place that he’d dug for himself. Trapped inside the box, so to speak. Which was unusual for Jules, because he was one of the best outside-the-box thinkers Sam had ever met.
; “Yeah,” Sam said. Come on, Squidward. Shake yourself loose. “It’s usually not as specific as…Joe Laughlin. Usually it’s the meter maid, or the pool boy. Little Red and the big, bad wolf.” He waggled his eyebrows at Jules. “That one’s Lys’s favorite. She loves it when I put on my little red riding hood.”
Jules finally laughed, slipping into a far more receptive place.
So Sam stopped joking. “You know, Robin might be…” What was the best way for him to say this? “Learning a thing or two from playing this character. Joe apparently likes it—” he cleared his throat “—rough, Robin’s paying attention to what he’s doing on set, thinking, Hmmm, that might be fun. Jules might go for that… He brings it home, tries it out and…Did you let him know you, um, enjoyed what he did?” He answered for Jules. “Of course you did. Robin’s a smart guy, so now he’s probably thinking, Gee, what else can I try? But he’s not just smart, he’s also kind of, well, gentle. Sweet. So maybe he does bring a little bit of ol’ Joe home with him at times, to give him the courage and the edge he needs to, uh, boldly go. To rock your world the way he wants to rock it, because he’s crazy about you.”
Jules was staring at him. “I never thought of it like that.”
Sam shrugged. “Maybe you should. Think about it more. Try this perspective on for size, see how it feels.”
Jules was shaking his head, but this time it wasn’t because he disagreed. “You missed your calling,” he told Sam. “You should have been a therapist.”
“Shit,” Sam said. “Just kill me now.”
“Seriously,” Jules said. “That was pretty freaking profound…”
“For a guy who wears cowboy boots and blows shit up,” Sam finished with him. “I know. Will you please do me a favor and talk to Robin about this? Sometime between now and, oh, say, eleven hundred hours, Saturday, when you’re marrying him?”
Jules’s phone rang, and he picked it up off the table. “Cassidy.” His face and voice softened immediately. “Oh, hey, sweetie.” He glanced at Sam, mouthing, Robin. “No,” he said into his phone. “No-no, that’s…That’s great. Of course I trust your…No, it does. It sounds like…Yeah, exactly the color we were looking for …How many?” He cracked up, and told Sam, “Robin just bought twenty new towels for our finally fucking finished master bathroom. Yeah,” he said into the phone. “I’m having coffee with Sam.” He laughed again. “Robin says to make sure you know that they’re bath sheets, not towels and…” As he listened to Robin on the other end of the phone, his smile faded and he swore. “You, too, huh? Seven times? Goddamn him…”
The him in question had to be Adam. Jules had told Sam that the little bastard had started calling him again. Right during the wedding rehearsal. It was highly unlikely that that was a coincidence.
“He said what?” Jules’s voice went up an octave, and he turned to look at Sam. “Son of a bitch. Adam left Robin a voicemail. He says the stalker—evil twin robot guy—broke into his house, left a threatening note. He said the police aren’t taking him seriously. So he’s catching the red-eye to Boston.”
Sam gently took Jules’s phone from his hand. “Hey, Robin,” he said, speaking both into the phone and also to Jules. “It’s Starrett. Alyssa and I are going to take care of this for you guys, all right?” He looked at Jules, nodding slightly to encourage him to nod, too—which he finally did. “You can cross Adam off your list of things to worry about,” Sam continued. “He’s not going to fuck up your wedding. I won’t let that happen.”
“Thank you.” Robin’s gratitude was heartfelt, but across the table, Jules wasn’t looking quite as convinced that Sam could just abracadabra Adam away.
“We’ll take care of it,” Sam said again, as he hung up Jules’s phone and handed it back to him.
Jules managed a smile, but damn, the tension was back in his shoulders and neck. “Maybe he won’t be able to get a flight, with all the delays in Chicago.” He laughed. “No, you know what’s going to happen? He’ll go through Dallas or Atlanta, and he’ll get here tomorrow. The one person I don’t want at my wedding is going to be here, and the one person I most want won’t.”
Sam reached across the table and put his hand on Jules’s arm. “Squidward. Look at me.” He waited for eye contact. “Your mom’s coming in tonight. She’ll be here in time for the rehearsal dinner.”
“What?” Jules said. “How…?”
“I called in some favors,” Sam said. “I got her on a flight that…I can’t tell you about, but she’s landing at Logan…” He looked at his watch. “In about ninety minutes. It was going to be a surprise, have her walk into the restaurant tonight, blow your mind, but…You look like you need…at least one less surprise right about now.”
Jules started to cry.
And as he did, Sam realized that out of all the years he’d known Jules, the times he’d seen the man cry had been few and far between. He hadn’t cried when Adam had left him. Nor when he’d gotten the news that another ex, Ben, had died in Iraq.
And he was crying now the way Sam cried—with his hand over his face, trying to hide it. He was actually laughing, too, as if he realized how absurd it was that he was crying at all. But relief was such a funny emotion. A man could be stalwart through anger and hurt and even bitter grief. But relief was a bitch to fight.
Jules wiped his eyes as he looked up at Sam. “Thank you so much for that,” he said. “It’s the best gift you’ve ever given me. And you’ve given me some…pretty wonderful gifts these years that we’ve been friends.”
Aw, hell. Now Sam was getting misty-eyed, too. “I’m glad I could help.”
Jules took a deep breath. Exhaled. “Let’s go home and see Robin’s towels.”
“Bath sheets,” Sam reminded him. “What kind of gay man are you?”
Jules laughed as they went out the door. “The kind who can kick your ass, SpongeBob, and don’t you ever forget it.”
Dolphina was crying again.
The entire rehearsal dinner was, for her, one sob-fest after another.
Jules had neglected to inform her that his mother had safely arrived. It was possible Dolphina was the only one who was surprised when Mrs. Cassidy walked into the restaurant.
The way Jules had hugged his mother had made Dolphina tear up. But it was the way Linda Cassidy greeted Robin with such love and approval that had really gotten her going.
Alyssa and Jane had both made funny, wonderful, heartfelt toasts to the happy couple—and again, Dolphina had cried.
Robin had arranged for a piano and a sound system, and after dinner, he’d sat down and played, singing right to Jules. He sang two songs—“This Boy,” an old Beatles ballad that was incredibly romantic, and an oldie called “Hooked on a Feeling,” which seemed kind of an odd choice for a recovering alcoholic. Jules, however, seemed to love it. He laughed when the song started, and smiled his way through it, watching Robin sing and play with such love in his eyes.
Dolphina just sat off to the side as the last of her mascara washed down her face.
Of course, it didn’t help that she’d spent most of the past week crying. For no apparent reason.
Robin and Jules had both rather gently suggested that she at least listen to what Will Schroeder had to say. He’d called, he’d e-mailed, he’d FedExed letters, he’d even shown up at the door.
But she’d shut him out again and again.
He’d even been here tonight, waiting in the restaurant lobby as she’d arrived early to make sure everything was ready for the rehearsal dinner. He’d looked awful, as if he wasn’t sleeping, either. He’d actually shaved and put on a suit and tie, with real dress shoes instead of his stupid sneakers.
Because she’d been early, she had listened to what he had to say.
“I’m sorry I lied,” Will told her. “I’ve spent a lot of years lying, and it’s…a hard habit to break. I was afraid you’d get into trouble, and I just opened my mouth and…It came out. It was wrong. I was wrong. It was a huge mistake. I’ve got this…book
I’m working on now, and…I thought that was what I wanted, and I was wrong about that, too. I would trade it, in a heartbeat, for another chance with you.”
And then he’d stood there, looking at her as if he actually hoped she’d say, Okay. Sure. You can have another chance. And maybe this time, I’ll be stupid enough to sleep with you before you break my heart. Again.
Instead, she said, “You used me. You were trying to get me to go out with you. You were attracted to me and you knew I…felt the same and yet…I was only upstairs for a few minutes that day. Apparently you didn’t spend very much time wrestling with whether or not you should help yourself to my computer files.”
“No, I didn’t,” he admitted quietly. “But I should have.”
“You, of all people,” she said. “After what your ex-wife did…” She’d found out more about Will’s break-up via Google. It hadn’t just been ugly, it had been public, as well.
Apparently, his photographer wife had used him to gain access to people and places. She’d used his research skills, too, to snap a series of award-winning photos that had propelled her to a new level—at which point she’d dropped Will like a stone, all but flashing him an L-for-loser sign as she walked out the door.
“I was wrong,” Will said again now. “I’ve been thinking about it and…I think I’ve been living for so long in this cutthroat world where it’s…every man for himself. It’s hard to not do unto others what’s been done unto me.”
All Through the Night Page 20