by Jackson Kane
It was a way of saying, congratulations everyone, somehow you pulled it off!
“You don’t have to worry about a thing. I’ve got it all figured out,” Mom continued, excitedly. “Aunt Paula gets off work at four. She's going to take us to the pier, then on our way back we can just—”
“I’m not going.” I pulled my mouth to the side of my face and glanced away from her. The production company rented out the Spirited Massachusetts cruise ship for the wrap party. The thought of being trapped on a boat with a bunch of people who saw me make a complete fool out of myself made me a little queasy.
With rehearsals, set up and extras being herded, that big explosion scene was the only shot of that whole day. And I ruined it.
After the medics looked me over and the director was done thinking up new ways to insult me I basically ran home with my tail between my legs. Why would I want to relive that?
Of course production had me back to dub some of my lines later in the week, but that was at a sound stage so I didn’t have to face any of the cast or crew again.
Then there was Dante…
The single most attractive man I’d ever laid eyes on. What if he showed up and I was stuck on the boat with him? I was so embarrassed at the thought of seeing him again that my shoulder blades started to itch.
Fuck, even my skin didn’t want to go.
“I get why you might not want to go.” Mom saw through me like I was an empty martini glass. And like the super protective single mother she was, she started to get worked up in my defense. “None of that was your fault! You can even see on the video that whatever you were standing on broke.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m going to give that Emerin douche bag a piece of my mind over the way he talked to you. I don’t give a damn who he is. No one talks to you like that.”
“Please don’t.” I turned back to her, pleading. Ever since Dad abandoned us when I was a kid, Mom had a way of…overdoing things when she thought I needed help. I loved her to pieces, but she almost always made the situation worse when she got going. I called her after the medics let me go. Neither the security guards nor even the police could stop her from storming onto the set and yelling at everyone she thought was at fault for what happened.
“Who cares anyways?” I shrugged, finally remembering to turn off the camera above my computer. “It’s just a party.”
“Sweetie, I work in a bank.” Mom said flatly. “Y’know what the highlight of my day is? Finding out what kind of kooky sandwich Joan packed her husband for lunch. I need to go have free drinks with celebrities. That’s a thing I need to do. At least once in my life.”
The pleading look on her face filled my limbs with sand. I suddenly felt ten times heavier. A few weeks ago when I got the email I told Mom she could be my plus one. The only time I ever saw her more excited was when I told her that I was cast for the role in the first place. She was really looking forward to going; she’s been practically floating from room to room all week.
Damnit, I was being a selfish bitch.
“Pleeeeaaaase?” Mom plopped down on the edge of my bed and whined at me.
“God, you’re so annoying!” I couldn’t keep the smile completely from my lips. This would really make her happy. I didn’t have it in me to take that away from her. “Fine. We’ll go.”
This was a once in a lifetime opportunity…probably for both of us, now that I screwed everything up so damn badly.
“Yay!” She flopped back on my bed and kicked her feet like a teenager who just got asked out by her crush.
“I swear sometimes I feel like I’m the adult in this relationship.”
“Ha! Now that you’re twenty-three I’m done being an adult.” Mom sat up and put a hand on my shoulder. “Listen.” Her expression took a grave turn. “You’re my only daughter. I only have a few good years left before I need you to change my diapers.”
“Oh my God.” I groaned loudly. “Mom, you’re forty-five! I’m not changing your diapers.”
“Has the Lion King taught you nothing? Circle of life, baby.” Mom laughed a little too loudly, a little too energetically. It made me a bit uncomfortable. She wiped her eyes at the laughing fit, picked up her outfits and lingered in my doorway. “No denying it.”
“Say’s you!” I shouted after her, swallowing the weird feelings that bubbled in me. I chocked it up to what happened on set. We both had weird ways of dealing with heavy emotional stuff, but jokes were always our armor. “You’re getting shipped off to a nursing home the second you let your guard down!”
“How do you do that in sweat pants?” Mom pointed toward my computer, before stepping out of my room.
I shrugged, looking down at what I was wearing. “They don’t see my lower half, it doesn’t matter.” My hair, nails and makeup were all done up, and I had on one of my favorite blouses. But downstairs? I wore my faded, super-comfy Powerpuff Girls pjs.
When I turned back to my computer the red light on my webcam was still on.
Crap! Was I recording this whole time?
I was so bad at leaving the camera on when I was screwing around! One of these days it was going to get me in trouble. I glanced at the time, saved the movie length video and closed out of the recording software. I had no willpower to edit right now.
Not when I had a party to get ready for.
Chapter 3
Autumn
Breaking off from a cluster of polite conversation, I leaned against the railing on the back, open-air, viewing area of the Spirited Massachusetts cruise ship. With a glass of red wine in my hand I watched the sun retreat behind the silhouette of Boston’s jagged skyline.
Lights snapped on all across downtown; the city yawned and opened its eyes to embrace another Saturday night. The last fiery gasp of sunset had simmered into smoldering yellow-red coals, and was slowly being devoured by the deepening purple sky and the glassy, black harbor.
It was beautiful.
We were out far enough that you couldn’t hear the traffic, sirens and horns Mom always referred to as the soundtrack of Boston. The night was serenely calm, save the gentle clap of water against the side of the ship and the dull, droning music that leaked out of the dance hall whenever someone opened the ornate glass door that separated the back deck from the main cabin.
I used my phone’s camera to make sure the wine glass hadn’t smeared my lipstick. I’d snuck away a few times to check my makeup and outfit. I wasn’t a fashionista by any means, but I certainly watched enough videos online to be confident about my smoky eyes and subtle lips.
Ok, my lipstick wasn’t all that subtle, but it did at least match my three-inch heels and the only formal cocktail dress I owned. I loved this dress. It was a knee-length raspberry red dress that was snug enough for me to pretend to have curves, with a cold shoulder and sweetheart neckline.
None of this was for Dante, I reminded myself as I turned off my phone. I slid it back into my studded, red clutch and glanced around again. He probably hadn’t even come to the wrap party. The lady I was just talking to said that stunt people rarely ever showed up. I hadn’t seen him on the boat yet, not that I’d really been looking.
When a couple excused themselves from their small group and disappeared inside the ship I heard Mom’s distant sharp laugh. It made me smile on the inside. She was having the time of her life. Despite her abandoning me immediately to go pester one of the actors, I was glad she dragged me here.
She did so much for me that it felt nice to do something like this for her.
I glanced over my shoulder at the small groups of people lounging on the brightly colored, exterior couches. Seeing them smoke, laugh and generally unwind dulled some of the uneasy feeling I’d been carrying with me since agreeing to come.
How silly was it to get worked up about this party?
For better or worse no one even knew I was here.
If the crew and cast cared about the botched stunt from earlier in the week they didn’t show it. They were more wrapped up in gossip over the
next project that was coming to town or complaining that the Massachusetts film tax credit was being challenged again by the mayor.
What happened still crinkled my shoulder blades together, and I was probably never going to get another acting job, but it made me feel a little better knowing they weren’t going to run me off the ship with torches and pitchforks.
I sighed. I could at least enjoy the one night I almost had an acting career. That, and the open bar was nice.
Something else had been buzzing around the back of my mind since being yelled at by the director. A sense of relief.
I did some acting in school but I never wanted to actually be an actor, not really. I was glad I did it, and once I can stop cringing at the thought of how it all went, I’d have a great story to tell my friends. But honestly? I was kind of glad that whole thing was over.
The whole process was extremely stressful! No one ever told me how chaotic film making was. Most of the time I had no idea where I was supposed to be or what I should be doing. I always felt like I was one step away from being screamed at by someone who was also under a tremendous amount of stress. Ninety percent of the time I was bored out of my mind and the other ten I was having heart attack at how quickly things moved. Either I was completely in the dark or there was a gigantic beaming spotlight on me.
That’s why I was looking forward to getting back to my YouTube channel where there was zero pressure. I was just having fun and screwing around and I didn’t have to worry about making any mistakes. Hell, most of my screw ups just went into the videos! My fans loved it.
I sighed again, letting the lull of the gentle water and my second glass of wine calm me down for what felt like the first time in weeks. It was over. Things could finally get back to normal now.
That soothing calm didn’t last long. Soon enough the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I took another long sip of wine trying to ease the sensation, but that didn’t help.
I was being watched.
Was Mom looking for me? She was the only one that cared I was even here.
Casually scanning the people on the deck, it didn’t seem like anyone noticed me. It was my second pass when one of the groups opened up that I caught a familiar set of dark eyes staring me down; they belonged to Dante Marks.
I could’ve recognized those dangerous, brown eyes in my sleep…probably because every night this week I’d dreamt about them. His eyes, his hands, the weight of his body covering mine… I took a deep breath to keep the stutter from my breath and glanced away.
It had cooled considerably being on the harbor now that the sun had gone down, but thinking about him warmed my cheeks. That excited, pickling sensation rolled down my blouse like hot oil.
Dante was surrounded by half a dozen people who were gushing over the various stunts he’d done on the film. He was so handsome that it was difficult to look at him. All cleaned up, I couldn’t believe how dashing he was! I had to clench my teeth to keep my mouth from hanging open. Clean-shaven, he looked crisp. His hair was closely trimmed on the sides, longer on the top and was combed back with a little gel.
In a sea of dark clothing and muted tones, Dante’s neatly-tailored white suit virtually glowed. Black accents of his watch, shoes, pocket square and tie made the whole outfit not just pop, but sizzle.
He was dressed so sharply that I was surprised the people talking to him weren’t bleeding. No one could enter or leave the area without laying eyes on him as they walked by.
My red dress that I thought was so daring looked so unbelievably tame in comparison.
God…The confidence he must have to pull that suit off.
Confidence? I nearly laughed out loud. On set I’d seen him take a corner so hard in a school bus that it rolled completely over. He also flawlessly choreographed a fight with ten men, and become engulfed in flames, all on camera in front of dozens—occasionally hundreds—of people. Never once did he crack under pressure. If anything, the scarier the stunt was the more self assured he became!
Of course a white suit wouldn’t bother him, I snorted.
Dante smiled politely, offering handshakes and hugs as people drifted in and out of his group. He spared those that stayed only a fraction of his attention, before his eyes found their way back to me.
Why was he looking at me? Then I remembered how I sobbed into his chest, and my whole body started to cringe. He was probably joking about me with his friends. How mortifying!
I tried to wash away my shame with the last of my drink, but of course it didn’t help. No amount of wine was going to ease that kind of embarrassment. All I wanted to do was run away, but I was trapped on this stupid boat for at least another hour. Maybe I could find a closet or a bathroom to hide in…
“Hey,” he mouthed the word at me from across the deck. I had to squeeze the railing to keep my legs from giving out. My empty wine glass slipped out of my hand and went right off the side of the boat.
Shit!
I snapped around just in time to watch it splash into the water. Gripping my clutch with renewed tightness, I surveyed the area as casually as I could, but it didn’t look like anyone saw what happened. I played it off with an exaggerated stretch and hoped no one noticed.
All it took was watching Dante’s lips move and I turned into a pathetic mess. Not a great start to the evening.
Unless I was going to jump over the side and swim to shore—an idea that was becoming more and more appealing—I knew there’d be no escaping Dante. He mouthed the word again, and this time I noticed that no one else turned to leer at me. They were all too focused on him and each other.
Well, good. At least he’s not making fun of me. I bit the corner of my lip and tugged at my silver stud, feeling a little bad at jumping to conclusions.
I never did properly thank him for what he did for me on set. Between the safety crews and the director, everything had happened too fast for me to get my bearings. And by the time everyone was finished with me, Dante was gone.
Just a quick hello, then I can run away. I swallowed my breath and found my resolve. I carefully lifted a new glass of wine from the tray of a wandering server and waited at the rear of the crowd surrounding Dante.
It amazed me how he could be a rock star in this world while being completely unknown by the public. Every impressive thing the main character did in the movie we worked on was really done by Dante, yet acting megastar, Grant Brent, was the one who’ll get all the awards come Oscar season.
This was a mistake, I realized hovering uncomfortably just outside the circle of people, and began turning back to the distant skyline. Dante was too busy for someone like me. Or so I thought until Dante abruptly excused himself from the excited mob.
“Tonight you’re going to save me,” Dante whispered. He was suddenly so close that the low, sexy rumble of his voice in my ear was chased by his hot breath as it licked across the back of my neck and set my skin on fire. The cool breeze sweeping in off the ocean did nothing to put that fire out.
With a disarming smile he gracefully excused himself from the group, glanced at me and dipped his head to the railing toward an emptier part of the deck. The ghost of his fingertips grazed my lower back, sending butterflies of excitement up my spine.
I knew instantly that tonight just took a hard turn in a direction I hadn’t expected.
“You’re quite popular,” I said, when we were as far away from everyone else as we could get. I took a sip of wine and prayed to think of something better to say. We weren’t alone on the deck, but being with him made it feel that way.
“There’s only so much hot air I can take before floating away.” Dante’s gaze drifted out over the water, he raised his thick eyebrows in a tired expression. Stealing himself back from introspection, Dante turned back to me and stole the glass of wine from my hand before I could protest. “You mind?”
“Actually—” I began, but let it go. What was I really going to protest? It was an open bar; it wasn’t like I actually paid for the drin
k. Still though, it was a little rude to take someone’s drink!
Watching him rotate the glass just to drink from the part of the rim that was stained with my lipstick was hotter than it had any right to be. He dragged his teeth across his bottom lip, catching an errant red drip.
“Sweeter than I remember,” he handed the glass back to me, the hint of a smirk caught in his eyes. The look made my veins vibrate; I didn’t know how much more of his dare stare I could stand before I had to be soaked up with a mop. When I went to take the glass from him, he pulled it back at the last second. “Don’t lose this one.”
Crap he saw that!
Panicking, I let out a nervous giggle. I thought about blaming it on the buzz I had going from the wine, but decided to change the subject entirely instead. Snatching the glass, I blurted, “You, uh… You look so different with clothes on.”
“Have you seen me naked?” Dante asked with genuine curiosity.
How was that not a thing he intrinsically knew? I could count on one hand all the people who’ve ever seen me naked.
Dante cocked his head and let his eyes trail down the length of my body, undressing me as they went. He was so direct and blunt that it took me by surprise. “I would’ve remembered you.”
“What?” I immediately started to blush, and desperately changed the conversation to keep the mental image of us naked together from fully forming in my mind. “No! Of course not! I mean, now that you’re not in a green jump suit covered in ping pong balls.”
“I’d still take a mocap suit over those ridiculous shorts any day of the week.”
“They weren’t that bad!” I snapped the reply. Why was I defending them? It wasn’t like I picked the outfit out. I was just a little nervous around him and it was making me a little defensive. I forced myself to relax through another sip of wine. “OK, yeah they were pretty bad.”
“As a general rule I never trust any clothing you can’t be dragged across the pavement in.” Dante propped his shoulders on the railing, breathed in the crisp ocean air and lost himself in the view.