Junk

by Komal Kant

  As far as comebacks went, this was an uneventful one. No press. No promotion. Just Wade, with his one bag, in the city he hoped to find himself in.

  It was scary how life came full circle.

  The drive into Beverly Hills was a slow crawl.

  Morning commuters on their way to work. Tourists on their way to sight-see. Celebrities on their way to eat thirty-dollar avocado toast.

  It was the melting pot that made up the city. It was what made Los Angeles so unique.

  There was a twinge in my chest. The freedom of Pine Bluffs was gone. No racing my truck down the road. No screaming into the silence when the noise in my head took over.

  No family. No friends. No Achilles.

  No one in this city could replace the hole they left in my chest. But once the rumors spread that I was back, people would come running back to me, trying to kiss my ass and tell me how sorry they were about what had happened.

  Money spoke volumes in L.A, and luckily that was the one thing I had tons to spare.

  “This is the place, right?” The taxi driver snapped me out of my thoughts.

  Glancing around, I let the sheer size of the extensive estate sink in. The mansion sat halfway up a hill, a typical Beverly Hills home with obnoxious iron-wrought gates and a dry fountain placed in the center of the driveway.

  It didn’t matter how rich you were, water regulations were still a bitch.

  There was a security box at the entrance. I leaned out of the window and hit the ‘call’ button, letting it ring until Athena, Iris’ maid, answered.

  “Can I help you, please?” she asked in a thick Greek accent.

  “Hey, Athena, it’s Harlen,” I said into the speaker.

  “Who, please?”

  “Harlen Walker.” I glanced into the camera and waved.

  There was a gasp on the other end of the box. “Mr. Harlen? Is that really you, Sir?”

  “Yes, Athena,” I confirmed. “Can you let me in?”

  “Y-yes, Mr. Harlen, just a second.” There was a buzz and the gate slid open.

  The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror as he drove up the long driveway that led to Iris’ front door. “That name sounds familiar,” he said, pulling up in front of the steps.

  “I’m a pretty famous gardener,” I told him without cracking a smile and handing him two fifty-dollar bills before grabbing my bag and hopping out of the taxi.

  The driver stared after me, his mouth hanging open as I strode up the familiar steps to the front door of the only woman who could help me now.

  My agent—Iris Roberts.

  She had grown to mean more than just an agent to me. We had been together since the day I landed my first bit role on a grossly inaccurate medical drama show. Since then, we’d taken my career from a sexy anesthesiologist to one of the highest-paid actors in Hollywood.

  Sometimes, we didn’t see eye-to-eye on things and fought like two stubborn presidents trying to negotiate a peace treaty, especially when it came to finalizing my divorce with Penelope, but deep down it was all love.

  The front door swung open before I could even ring the doorbell.

  Iris let out an uncharacteristic, shrill scream when she saw me, throwing her arms up in the air.

  Either, she was excited to see me, or I looked like I’d been to Hell and back.

  Fitting, because that’s exactly how I felt.

  “HARLEN!” Iris threw herself into my arms in what was a rare show of affection between us. “Is this real life?” I caught a whiff of her Estee Lauder perfume. “Why are you dressed like a lumberjack?”

  In comparison, Iris was styled from head to toe, even this early in the morning, in a black, Chanel pantsuit and matching black heels. She was a lot shorter than me, curvy, late-thirties, with bright red hair that she’d always insisted was natural.

  “That’s a good question,” I said with a laugh, trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was back with someone I hadn’t seen in years.

  Iris had never failed to check in weekly, but it wasn’t the same as having her in front of me.

  “I’m so glad to see you again. Come in. We really need to fix that beard, though.” She was already scrolling through her phone as we strolled through her luxurious home. “I’ll call Sasha.”

  Sasha was the best hair stylist in town, which is what we said to his face. Behind his back, he was more like the tenth best.

  “That’s fine,” I said, my head swimming.

  Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. The elation swimming through me was clouding my instincts.

  “So, any chance this means you’re ready to make a comeback?” Iris probed, oblivious to the unsettling feeling in my gut. “Should I start making some calls? I could have a cleaning service get your house up and running in a few hours if you need me to.”

  House was a loose term. My Beverly Hills mansion was located on a sprawling one-acre property with a tennis court and two swimming pools. Since it was being sold in the divorce—even though I’d purchased it before getting married—I might as well enjoy it while I could.

  “We can talk about all that later,” I said, as we stopped in her living room. “But first I need you to book me a flight to Chicago.”

  “Chicago? Why?” she asked, her tone discerning. “Please tell me you’re not leaving again for three years. Do you know how old you’ll be then? Thirty-two, Harlen! Thirty-two late. End of your career forever, bye-bye.” She fluttered her fingers at me to emphasize her point. “No one will want to book you for lead roles anymore.”

  Iris’ words bristled me.

  “I’ve made plenty of money,” I retorted, my arrogance seeping out. “But I need to get to Chicago. You don’t under-”

  “Yes, and I needed you to be back two years ago. We don’t always get everything we want.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said, my tone bitter as I thought about my divorce and all the money Penelope was squeezing out of me.

  Three years later, and I was still holding on to material possessions I didn’t need anymore. Petty, right?

  Iris caught my meaning. “This is why you need to make a comeback, Harlen. The world needs to see that the divorce isn’t getting you down. Let’s call Steven or Martin and see if they have any projects coming up.”

  My ego swelled a little. Even after this long, I was still a commodity here. My life could be up and running again with a few phone calls, but was that enough to truly make me happy if the one person who had injected air back into it wasn’t with me?

  “I get that, but I need to go to Chicago.”

  “Are you freaking kidding me, Harlen?” Iris shook her head in disbelief. If not for the Botox, I was sure her forehead would be filled with lines. “You just got back! You need to be here! I’m not going to have you disappear again. The paparazzi are on high alert now they know where you’ve been hiding, so why would you risk leaving?”

  That was a good point, but-

  “Wait, what?” I asked, staring hard at her. “How do you know they’re on high alert?”

  There was a chance the story had already broken, but the media hadn’t caught sight of me in Pine Bluffs. They needed the money shot and I knew for a fact they didn’t have it.

  They had some pictures of a person clad in jeans with a jacket over their head, A.K.A. Cole. That wasn’t enough to release a story. They were now all camped outside Lois Woods’ house where Blair had cleverly directed everyone to go.

  Iris stopped in mid-sip of her mimosa. “I-I thought you told me that.”

  The stumble of her words gave her away.

  I shot to my feet, advancing on her as the unsettling feeling churned within me. “I never told you anything. I didn’t even tell you why I was back.”

  “Oh, I could’ve sworn you had.” She set her glass down, her eyes taking in my every move.

  “Don’t bullshit me, Ris!” I came to a stop in front of her, hoping my instincts were wrong. Not her. Not Iris. I trusted her like she was
family. “What did you do?”

  Iris narrowed her eyes at me, crossing her arms over her chest. “What I had to.”

  Breathe in.

  Breathe out.

  Stay calm.

  “What did you do?” I hissed through clenched teeth. “What the fuck did you do?” So much for staying calm.

  A patchwork of red blotches appeared on her face, sealing my suspicions. “This was the only way to get you back here. Do you know how much we’re losing to Penelope in this stupid divorce?” Her voice shook with frustration. “Your career doesn’t need to be over. We can still take you back to the top.”

  This wasn’t about me, despite the careful words she used. I could see it in her eyes.

  I was her biggest client—her biggest paycheck. If I wasn’t making money, neither was she. This was about her.

  “You have no idea what you just fucking did!” I yelled, slashing an arm through the air. “You just brought a pack of rabid paparazzi down on a peaceful town filled with good people!”

  Iris scoffed at that. “Oh, please, you’re the one who always said that town was filled with backwoods rednecks.”

  Her words sank in.

  She was right. I had said that in the past. But a lot had changed. I had changed. I wasn’t that egotistical asshole anymore. I knew my success was molded by the place and the people I had come from.

  “Then I guess I’m a backwoods redneck.” With a wavering breath, I stared Iris dead in the eyes. “And you’re fired.”

  As I turned away from Iris, her entire face changed. The smugness dissolved into wild panic. “Harlen, wait! I’m sorry!” She click-clacked after me, but her words were meaningless and empty.

  This woman had held my trust for so many years, and now it had shattered into pieces that could never be repaired.

  “Don’t try to contact me,” I spat at her, striding out of the house and into the fresh air.

  The shards of Iris’ betrayal had pierced too deep. I couldn’t go back now. Not to her, not to Pine Bluffs.

  It was time to take control of my own life.

  Harlen Walker was back, but my return would now be on my own terms.

  “You can’t be serious.” Stunned, I darted a glance between Drew and Delilah, trying to comprehend what they were saying. “You’re doing what?”

  It was the morning after Wade had left, and I had just finished packing up the last of my stuff. My car was finally done, although the person who’d been commissioned to work on it wasn’t even here to collect his payment.

  Instead, when Harris had shown up earlier this morning with my car, I’d paid him, despite his stubborn refusal.

  Now, I sat with Drew and Delilah in the living room of my grandmother’s house after a huge breakfast of pancakes, waffles, eggs, and bacon, and had somehow managed to stuff myself into the corner armchair.

  That’s when my brother decided to drop a bombshell on me.

  Drew reached for Delilah’s hand and gave it a squeeze as they gazed at each other, puppy love shining in their eyes.

  Blech. They were so sweet, it made my teeth ache.

  “I’ve decided to stay,” he told me, no humor in his tone. “Pine Bluffs calls to me, and I’m not ready to leave yet.”

  “Where the heck are you even going to stay?” I knew I sounded like an overprotective parent, but I’d only just gotten my brother back from the wilderness of Nepal. I wasn’t quite ready to lose him again.

  “Well, speaking of that,” Delilah spoke up. “I put in an offer for your grandmother’s house.”

  “What?” I gaped at her, dumbfounded.

  She nodded, all poised and calm like she normally was. “Yes, I thought it was about time I got a place of my own. Your grandmother’s house was the perfect option.”

  My mind was trying to process all this information as best as possible. My baby brother was moving in with a girl he’d met about a week or so ago and staying in a town he knew nothing about.

  What the hell?

  “Are you guys kidding me?” I demanded, managing to wriggle out of the armchair and jump to my feet. “You’re moving in together? You barely know each other? You’re just kids!”

  A shadow flickered in Delilah’s eyes. “I run my own business.”

  Drew’s expression was still relaxed. “I’ve lived in a foreign country for a year.”

  My ears grew hot. Well, crap. They were both right. They’d done a hell of a lot more than I had in my life. I was so snobby about living in Chicago and so worried about losing my job that I was afraid to take chances.

  I was afraid to take chances in love and in life.

  That realization was scarier than anything I’d experienced before.

  “B-but,” I stammered, grasping at straws, “what if it doesn’t work out?”

  Drew shrugged. “Then it doesn’t. We can’t control every minute detail of our lives, Bee. Sometimes, you meet someone and you just know. It doesn’t have to make sense to anyone except to the two of you.” He and Delilah glanced at each other, a look passing between them that relayed a depth I could understand.

  The words hit me in a way I hadn’t expected. That’s how I felt about Wade, but was it possible to fall in love with someone in a such a short amount of time? I guess it was possible. No two stories were the same.

  With a heavy sigh, I asked, “Did you tell Mom and Dad?”

  “Yeah, I told them a couple of days ago.” He didn’t seem concerned by all my questions. “Mom cried a ton and Dad told me to, well, it doesn’t matter.” His ears turned pink, but I could imagine our dad had made some sort of mortifying comment.

  There was nothing else left to say. No protests I could made. My baby brother was growing up and he had to live his life the way he wanted, even if that meant being away from me.

  Relaxing a little, I moved closer to where Drew and Delilah were sitting. They both rose to meet me.

  “Who’s going to be a pain in my ass on the drive back?” I sniffled, laughing a little.

  Drew’s eyes swam with emotion, but he managed a chuckle. “I’m sure you’ll love your own company better.”

  Without further hesitation, we wrapped each other up in a bone-shattering hug and didn’t pull apart until it had become two minutes too awkward.

  “I really hope everything goes well for you both,” I told them, smiling at Delilah. “Thank you. For everything.” There was more that I wanted to say to her, but I wasn’t the best at getting my feelings across, so I left it at that, hoping she would understand.

  Delilah’s smile was sunshine as she reached for my hands and gave them a squeeze. “No, thank you, Blair. For what you did for my brother.” Her smile slipped a little. “Do you think you’ll ever get in touch with him again?”

  That was a question I’d been asking myself all night but didn’t have an answer for. I never expected to see Wade Welsecky again for as long as I lived.

  “I honestly don’t know,” I admitted, frowning down at the floor. “I don’t know if that’s something he would want.”

  “My brother doesn’t always know what’s best for him.” Delilah gave me a tight smile when I looked back up again. “And he doesn’t always express his feelings very well, which is kind of ironic because he’s an actor.”

  As this all sank in, a deep ache seized hold of my chest. It was too difficult to talk about Wade. To think about him. To hear his name. Things were over between us. I had to face that truth. I had to return to my life, just like he had returned to his.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, giving them both a smile.

  Without waiting for a response, I headed out the door and stepped onto the front porch, the humidity hitting me at full force. The weather I wouldn’t miss so much, but there was something about Pine Bluffs that made me feel like I’d discovered myself again.

  Staring out across the fields, I drank in the peace and tranquility. It was such a big difference to the noise that awaited me in Chicago and the evil boss I would have to tip
toe around just so I didn’t lose my job.

  It was a big difference from being in his arms and losing myself in his eyes.

  Pine Bluffs had changed me forever and I would never forget the memories it had given me—but it was back to reality.

  A reality without him.

  A whirlwind of mud hit me square in the chest.

  A flash of fur and claws bounded past, followed by a plump lady with bleach blonde hair and dark eyebrows as thick as her makeup.

  “Fifi! Fifi, darling, stop!”

  The urge to throw myself into a pit of leeches was tempting right about now. That also appeared to be the general consensus of the people whose dogs weren’t taking part in this ridiculous dog show.

  There was a woman sitting on a corner bleacher, staring at herself in a compact mirror as she picked food out of her teeth. Yeah, it was that kind of crowd.

  “Let me just get him back,” Fifi’s owner called breathily to me as she continued to chase down her mud-splattered, runaway poodle. “FIFI!”

  My camera guy and close friend, Manish Doshi, and I were reporting at the 12th Annual Washburn Dog Competition, and I was about ready to quit my job. Not only was I sweating my boobs off, I was also covered in such a variety of dog hair that you might as well call me a mutt.

  “Are you still rolling?” I asked him, motioning at the camera.

  Manish’s face was a sheen of disdain as he lowered his camera, shaking his dark head of hair that fell perfectly into his eyes. “I stopped somewhere between her story about Fifi’s love of green skittles and the time Fifi choked on a green skittle.”

  We both snorted with laughter at that. Not that it was funny that her dog had choked on a skittle; just that it was ridiculous she thought it was okay to give her dog skittles in the first place.

  Two weeks had passed since I’d returned to Chicago and it had been business as usual. That meant writing up articles about pet products, interviewing zookeepers, covering dog shows, and no thinking about-

  No! Don’t think about him! Act like you’re fine. You. Are. FINE.

  “Can we please leave this forsaken place?” I asked, shaking my head free of his memories and glancing around at the chaos that was unfolding around us. Irritable dogs were yapping at each other; frustrated owners were yapping at each other, too. It was literally hell. “I can’t watch another poor dog being coaxed into doing a stupid trick for human entertainment.”