Liberating Mr. Gable

by Tuesday Embers

  Luckily, Chloe made good on her five-minute promise. She let herself in, stifling a smile at Anson’s perplexed expression aimed at the chunk of meat. Instead of taking over, Chloe sat at the table and instructed Anson on how to make Etta’s grandfather’s dish, so he would be able to do it without assistance when they moved to LA.

  When it was finally in the oven forty minutes later, Anson slumped into the chair with relief. “Thank God. I’m starving.”

  “Well, you’ve got an hour and a half before it’s done cooking, so you might want to eat something else in the meantime.”

  “An hour and a half?” Anson complained. “Why does anyone bother cooking? It’s such a hassle and takes so long!” He took out the rest of the bacon and flopped a few pieces into a pan. “You hungry?”

  “Yes, Anson Gable.” Chloe snapped her fingers imperiously and grinned. “Make me some bacon!”

  Anson paused and turned to smirk at her. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “Having a famous movie star make dinner for me? Yes. Yes, I am. I especially enjoyed the fact that you tried to brown a frozen solid hunk of beef. That’s going up here for when I need a laugh on a rainy day.” She tapped her temple and kicked her legs up on the chair next to her. “So, you’re taking Etta to LA next week.”

  “Yup.” He nodded, suddenly afraid to look at her.

  “You want some advice?”

  He left the bacon to sizzle a moment and sat down at the table to give Chloe his full attention. “Okay. Shoot.”

  “Get her a solid girlfriend out there. Not some bimbo idiot who’s in love with you. Someone you trust who can be patient. Etta’s cautious, but worth the wait. She’s used to this life. You need to be aware of that. Allow some time for the transition. Don’t make it so that you’re her only lifeline. That’s not healthy.”

  “Should I be writing this down?”

  “I crap pure gold, so yes. She doesn’t wear bathing suits in public, so don’t push her. Even when it was just her, me and Coop, she wore shorts and a t-shirt over her suit. I can’t imagine LA’s where she’ll let her guard down about that kind of thing. Let her be who she is, cardigans and all.”

  “I can do that.” Anson took in every bit of advice Chloe gave him, viewing it as a cheat sheet, and also as some sort of a rite of passage.

  The two talked and ate bacon until the beef burgundy was done. By the time the stew was taken from the oven, Anson felt certain he had made an actual friend. “Thanks for this, by the way. You gave up your evening to help me.”

  “I’d do anything for Etta.” Chloe paused as she contemplated eating the last piece of bacon. “Did she ever tell you how we met?”

  Anson shook his head, inhaling the delicious scent of the stew he could not stop beaming with pride over. “Braiding daisy chains in a meadow?”

  “No, smartass. And don’t touch it yet. It’s too hot. Stir in the peas and let it cool down a little.” She watched him dump in the peas and stare into the pot with longing.

  “How’d you meet Etta?”

  “We were ten. I was visiting my dad up here. My parents just got divorced, and dad bought a cottage up in the mountains. Jamie and I were spending summers with him here. I was hiking where I shouldn’t have been, and got bit by a snake.”

  “You have snakes up here?”

  “Aw, poor city boy. I forgot how little you know about the mountains.” She took a sip of water and continued. “Etta found me all swollen and scared, and she totally took control. Looked me dead in the eye, introduced herself, and told me everything would be alright if I just held still.” Chloe shuddered. “I was in some pretty bad pain. But Etta got on her knees and sucked the poison out of my ankle.”

  “Whoa.” Anson glanced toward the hallway in the direction where Etta was still asleep. “You were ten?”

  “Yep. She’s always been like that. A decade older than the rest of us. Saved my leg, and probably my life. Didn’t even know my name until after she helped me here, so Papa could dress the wound.”

  “That’s amazing. No way not to be friends after that.”

  “She’s my best friend, and she’s taking a big risk going off with you.” Chloe leveled her gaze at Anson. “Make sure you’re worth the risk. Don’t take her because you can’t live without her. Coop? He can’t live without her. I don’t want to, either. Lots of people love her. So do this for her. Make sure it’s best for her. She’s not a person you should be selfish with.”

  Anson mulled this over before speaking. “Do you think her living alone up here after what happened to her is best for her?”

  “No. I just want you to take care of her once you get out there.”

  “I can do that.” And with that promise, Anson knew he would do whatever it took to make that true.

  Hiding in Bed

  Anson decided Etta had slept long enough, and went to her room to wake her. “Baby? It’s time to get up.”

  Etta turned on his third attempt to gently wake her and shook her head. Her face was sullen and, despite her record sleeping time, she had bags under her eyes.

  “You don’t have to get out of bed, but you have to eat something. At least sit up and talk to me for a minute. I have no idea what’s going on.”

  Etta nodded when she realized she had to use the bathroom. When she made her way back to the bed, she avoided Anson’s concern and covered herself with the comforter again.

  “Etta, please.”

  Chloe appeared in the doorway and marched past a forlorn Anson. “What happened? Is it Cooper? What’d he do this time?”

  Etta found her voice and spoke quietly. “Cooper’s not allowed in the house until I leave for LA.”

  Anson postured. “What did he do?”

  “Nothing. It’s just a new rule.”

  Anson had many more questions, but Chloe had only one. “He kissed you again, didn’t he?”

  When Etta nodded, Anson growled and stalked out of the room, barreling back in with his leather jacket and boots on. “Chloe, how do I get to his place?”

  Chloe shook her head. “As much as I’d love to see you beat on Coop for this, you’ll get yourself killed before you even get there. You don’t know how to drive up here. Etta’s truck’s a beast that needs a competent lion tamer.”

  This did not seem like reasonable logic for Anson. “Fine. I’ll walk there. Which way?”

  Chloe rolled her eyes. “Oh, brother. You’ll do no such thing. You’ll stay here and do what she wants. If Coop shows up, don’t let him in. Can you handle that? I’ll deal with Cooper.”

  “Chloe, I –”

  “Leave him to me. It’s more complicated than giving him a black eye to settle things. Cooper’s been in love with Etta his whole life. That’s not gonna go away just because you beat it out of him.” Chloe turned to Etta. “He’s kissed you before. What’s got you so upset now?”

  Etta’s calm left her, and her voice turned mournful. “I told him to stop, and he didn’t! I tried to push him away, but he just kept kissing me! Why would he do that? I couldn’t get out! He knows better than to corner me like that! I pushed him away so many times, but he backed me against the wall and just kept trying!”

  Chloe asked her friend a few more prodding questions to extract the entire ordeal, ignoring Anson shifting back and forth from fuming to pallid.

  Etta calmed a bit when Chloe sat on the bed and smoothed her hair back from her face. “So can I please just lie in bed for a while? I just lost one of my best friends. I can’t be normal right now.”

  “That’s fine. You chill in here, and I’ll deal with Cooper. He won’t bother you, and you won’t see him before you leave.” She sighed, saddened by her cousin’s actions. “It’s no secret he’s always had a thing for you. Sucks that when he finally acts on it, it’s like this. I’m sorry. LA might be a nice change.”

  Etta nodded and closed her eyes. “Yeah. Could I just sleep it off? I’ll be okay tomorrow. I’m just not ready to deal yet.”

>   “Of course. So long as you eat. Anson cooked for you, and he nearly burned down the house in the process. One day of mourning, and tomorrow is a new day. Deal? No more locking yourself away for months on end.”

  “Deal.” Etta turned in the bed to face Anson, whose face was stony. “You made me dinner?” she cooed bashfully.

  Anson tried to hold onto his wrath, but her doe-eyed adoration of his average efforts softened him against his will. “I did.” He brought her a bowl of the hot stew, and they ate together in amicable silence.

  Chloe shut the door to the room, leaving the couple to their quiet cuddling. She put away the stew and shut off the lights, glad that Etta was in capable hands for the night.

  Anson’s Territory

  The arrangements for the move were made quickly – too quickly for Etta’s liking. She was not sure the other owners understood she would not be back to the mountains for a long time. She explained it to Benjamin, who forced a supportive smile every time he saw her. Vera seemed to think Etta was just going away for a week or so, and would be back to pick up her deliveries for the General Store. The goodbye had been tearful between Chloe and Etta, but that was to be expected.

  Anson did not let anyone from his life know where he was until he booked the plane tickets a couple days before the flight. A brief phone call to his assistant was all that was needed to set things in motion. A package was overnighted to him, and Etta was still trying to make her way through it on the plane. The most intimidating object inside was a book of magazine cut-outs and bios of all the people in Anson’s life that Etta would have to keep track of. Her heart sank as she flipped through the pages, looking at each of the perfect models clinging to Anson’s arm.

  She was given a cell phone, which she had never used before, and was patiently taught how to operate it by Anson over the course of an entire hour and a half on the plane. Eventually he was stolen away by the next item on his agenda, each of which needed to be checked off before they landed. Every caller was greeted with a smile in his tone that did not match the stoic expression he wore. Etta could tell that even now, he was on the job. She laced her fingers through his when he was in between calls, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand to calm him. She smiled, content in the knowledge that no matter how different their lives would be in LA, they would be the same soothing balm to each other.

  When they landed, Anson wore a hoodie and jeans, walking quickly as he led Etta through the terminal. She could feel his spiked pulse as they rushed past people, and noticed he always kept his head down. When their luggage arrived on the carousel, Etta bent to pick it up, but Anson was faster. She was not used to having her bags carried. When guests came to the B&B, she was the one who unloaded their suitcases for them. Anson intercepted Etta’s eight boxes and bags – each adding up to the sum total of most of her transportable worldly possessions.

  They rolled their cart to the exit and stepped out into summer. It was early April, but it felt like July in full swing to Etta. Anson located his assistant and made a beeline for him, his anxiety climbing with every minute they spent out in the open.

  Jordan was dressed for the office, despite the heat. He greeted Anson with a handshake and a friendly smile, shooing Etta into the car with a slight nod of his head. Anson shut himself in the back of the car with her and sighed with relief. “That went well. Thank God.” His fingers twitched like he wanted to sanitize them, but he resisted.

  “You okay?” Etta put her backpack on the floor of the vehicle and reached for her seatbelt. There was an empty brown paper lunch bag on the seat between them, which Anson slapped into the front seat like he was declaring himself. “For if I hyperventilate.” His chin rose with a small amount of pride. “Which I won’t.” His hand found hers and squeezed. “We’re in LA together. We did it.”

  “I suppose we did. I can’t believe how warm it is here. Crazy.” She was about to comment further on the weather, but Anson’s mouth on hers cut her short. His kiss was urgent with fear and relief, and those two emotions were combining to create a frenzy. He undid her seatbelt and pulled her to him, driving the kiss deeper. It was not until Jordan slid into the driver’s seat that Etta jerked herself away. “Not now,” she said of Anson’s frown over the end of their make-out session. She did not care what state she was in; public kissing was not something she was ready for. “I’m sorry,” she offered humbly to the driver.

  Anson’s assistant was in his early thirties, and offered up a teasing smile. “Not at all. Pretend like I’m not even here.”

  Etta could not begin to address the rudeness of that idea. “I’m Etta.”

  “I know.” He indulged her in the formality of an introduction, since she seemed to need it. “I’m Jordan Pierce, Mr. Gable’s personal assistant. The phone he gave you has my number on speed dial number seven. If you need anything, just call me.” He reached back and handed Anson a small bottle of hand sanitizer, which Anson used, bearing an expression of shame as he did.

  “Oh. Well, that’s very nice of you. Thanks.” Etta sat back in her seat and rebuckled herself, patting Anson’s knee to assure him she was not put off by his neurosis.

  “Did you get through your list?” Jordan asked Anson.

  “Yeah. Barely. Other than that stuff, did I miss anything good?”

  “Ekaterina came out. Your tabloid nickname for the week was ‘Ladybeard’.”

  “Clever.” Anson rested his head back on the seat and reached for Etta’s hand, relieved it still felt the same. “Good for her. And I’m glad I missed that media circus.”

  “Officially I’m to yell at you for taking off like you did, but yeah. That was a good time to go missing. Serena spun your absence as a meditation retreat. So, you’re spiritual now.”

  “I’ll be sure to add that to my personality.” Anson scratched his chin. “Did you send flowers or a basket to Kat for coming out?”

  “I did. She was grateful for your support.”

  “Good man.”

  “Your meditation retreat brought in a few serious offers from some major producers. I put them all in your binder. Did you have time to read through it all on the plane?”

  “Yeah. But I’m retired now. Did you decline them for me?”

  Jordan made a turn before answering. He sat straight in the car, and his demeanor was friendly, but with the air of someone who was on the clock and attempting professionalism. “I was waiting until you came back to officially devastate them.” He drove carefully along the paved roads, his brown eyes scrutinizing the traffic patterns. Etta could scarcely feel the car move. She was used to her giant pickup and dirt roads.

  “I’m not going to change my mind,” Anson warned.

  “Who said anything about changing your mind?” Jordan asked, a little too innocently. The banter between the two was sometimes like a friendship, and other times like a business arrangement. It was difficult for Etta to keep up. She stared out the tinted windows and gazed at the real live palm trees that dotted the side of the highway. Everything felt so different. Unease crept over her, which she tried to hide as Anson and Jordan caught up on people they knew and business they needed to discuss.

  When the car moved through a gate with a security code, Etta tried to understand where they were going. The building they were moving toward could be classified as nothing short of a mansion, but she only saw one entrance. She wondered if perhaps it was an elegant hotel.

  Jordan stopped the car and unloaded the trunk, calling in to the housekeeper to come help him with the bags. “How long are we staying here?” Etta inquired.

  Anson’s hand was on the door, but he froze. “Um, as long as you’d like. Is something wrong?”

  Jordan opened the door for Etta, who paused before getting out. “No. I just thought we were going to your house.”

  Speaking slowly, Anson tried to make himself clear. “Sweetheart, this is my house.”

  The fear Anson felt in the terminal leapt onto Etta, who began to panic. “You live here? I… um
… it’s… This is where you live?” She thought of the quaint rooms in the B&B that seemed so spacious to her. The whole life she built for herself now felt small in comparison to Anson’s towering wealth. She knew she should be impressed or excited, but she felt small and entirely out of her depth. “Cheese and crackers, Anson!”

  “Do you want to go somewhere else for the night?” Anson offered, trying to keep her from getting back on the plane and leaving him forever. Every other woman drooled over his house. He loved Etta because she was different. He just never fully understood how deep that difference ran until he saw the fight or flight look in her eyes. “Jordan can take us to a hotel, if you’d rather.”

  Etta debated, but then realized with shame that he accepted her life, in all of its eccentricities, yet she was balking at his. “No. It was just a surprise. That’s all. It’s a very nice house.”

  At this, Jordan ducked his head down into the backseat. “I told you it was too much. Great for the gold diggers, but not for the real thing.” He extended his hand to Etta, who accepted the offer with trembling fingers. “You alright? I’ve got valium if you need it.”

  “What? Goodness gracious, no. Thanks, but I’m fine. Just wasn’t expecting Scarlett’s house from Gone with the Wind.” She reached for the nearest bag, but jumped back when both men responded with noises of disapproval. “What?”

  Jordan lifted the bag before she could take it. “Let me get the bags. It’s not your job to carry things.”

  Etta’s nerves were reaching their breaking point, so she nodded and kept her mouth shut. Anson led her up the stoop, not noticing when she did not enter the house after him. She let Jordan pass, but did not cross over the doorway. She wanted to follow Anson, but her feet felt frozen on the spot. The grand entryway boasted a large chandelier and several gorgeous paintings she feared she might break or ruin if she got too near. She did not belong with such fancy things, and wondered if she could really make it work with someone who did.