by Nikki Ashton
“As in prick.”
I gasped and snapped my eyes up to Grantley’s that were surveying Declan’s face intently.
“I’m s-sorry,” Declan stammered.
“Johnson,” Grantley said with an even tone. “It’s what we Americans call a prick, a dick. We call it a Johnson.”
Declan visibly sagged at the realisation that Grantley wasn’t, in fact, insulting him. Although, the way Grantley was perusing him I wasn’t so sure.
“Do you need glasses?” Grantley snapped, closing the gap between him and Declan.
“I-I don’t think so,” Declan stammered, looking a little perplexed. “Why?”
“I just thought you might,” Grantley replied, flicking some dandruff off Declan’s shoulder. “Seeing as you kind of look at Phoebe’s chest more than her face.”
“Grantley.” I gasped. “That’s not…”
I was going to deny that was the case, but it was actually true. Declan’s eyes rarely moved higher than my knockers if there was any part of them on show. Actually, come to think of it, he pretty much stared at them the whole time. I’d played one of several nuns once and he was one of several priests and he still managed to give them a good once over – more than once.
“I can assure you, I would never objectify Phoebe like that,” Declan protested.
Grantley slapped a big hand on Declan’s shoulder and gave him a tight smile. “Good to hear it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get Phoebe and both the boys home.”
I was pretty sure the look of astonishment on my face matched that of Declan.
“Seriously, Grantley, I can get the bus and train.”
“No arguments. The boys have already started to watch a film, so get in.” Grantley shouldered Declan out of the way, to give me room.
“Hey, Grant,” Barney called from the depths of the car. “We should get going man, you’ve got that thing tonight.”
“Okay, Barney.” Grantley turned to Declan. “Great to meet you, Johnson. Now, Phoebe get in.”
Knowing I had very little choice and giving Grantley a look that I hoped, but doubted, evoked fear in him, I got into the car and sat next to the boys.
Grantley got in and as soon as his door was closed, Barney moved away from the curb and sped away. I looked over my shoulder to see Declan watching us, shock written all over his face.
“You okay back there?” Barney asked, giving us a quick glance in the rear-view mirror.
The boys, engrossed in the film, where I spotted Scarlett Johansson running alongside the Incredible Hulk amongst other people, failed to answer.
“We’re great, thank you.” I answered for us all.
“No problemo. Now, you wanna give me the deets of your address and I’ll get you guys home.”
I gave my post code to Barney, who keyed them into the in-car Sat Nav and sat back into the soft cream leather.
“You okay if I work?” Grantley asked from the front seat.
“God yes, that’s fine,” I gushed. “Please don’t let us stop you. It’s really very good of you to do this. It really wasn’t necessary.”
“Please,” he sighed. “Stop thanking me and sit back and enjoy the journey home without hundreds of other people stepping on your toes, or pushing into your back – or even that bearded prick we just left, looking where he shouldn’t.”
I glanced at the boys, both were enthralled, so they hadn’t heard Grantley call Declan a prick. Not that he wasn’t, he truly was, but the boys didn’t need to hear that sort of thing.
“How did you know he’s always looking where he shouldn’t?” I asked, interested to know.
“I saw him today,” he replied, reaching into his pocket. “He was looking at your cleavage during the dinner party scene.”
Ugh, he really is a dirty, creepy bastard.
“Nothing new there I’m afraid,” I replied.
“Seriously?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Yep. He does it all the time.”
Grantley turned to look at me and was now wearing a pair of black-rimmed glasses. Those, paired with the rings and thin leather bracelet he must have put on after filming, well, he looked – shit, how to describe what he looked like.
Hot.
Sexy.
Gorgeous.
And did I say hot?
And yep, they suited him because newsflash, he didn’t really have a fat head.
“Yeah,” he said, rousing me from my thoughts. “He most definitely has the right name.”
He then turned back to his scripts and left me wondering whether I’d wet my knickers when we went over a speed bump a few seconds earlier, or I was one more woman not immune to Grantley James’ charm and horny as hell spectacles.
Grantley
I tried to concentrate on my script as we drove along, but the animated chatter in the back seat kept distracting me. It wasn’t pissing me off or anything, but those kids were funny and I found myself smiling more than once at what they were saying.
“No way,” Mack exclaimed. “Dick could smash The Hulk on the head with a piece of wood.”
“But he couldn’t,” Callum retorted. “I’m not being mean about Dick, but the Hulk is The Hulk, he can kill anyone, he’s like a giant or something.”
“But Dick is the best at punching.”
“Yes, I know, but the Hulk has got these massive hands, as big as your head, and all he’d have to do is crush Dick’s skull.”
I heard Phoebe sigh. “Please boys, stop calling him Dick.” She said quietly, but not quietly enough that I didn’t hear and feel amused by it.
“But that’s his name,” Callum protested.
“His secret name,” Mack added. “Only his friends call him Dick, and he said we could.”
“Well I’d rather you didn’t. Now, watch the rest of the film.”
I looked over my shoulder and caught her staring at me with an anxious look on her face. When she realised I was looking, she jumped slightly in her seat.
“Sorry, are they disturbing you?” she asked, thumbing toward the boys.
“No not all. I was just checking you’re all okay back there.”
Phoebe nodded and flickered a weak smile. I should probably have told her I didn’t mind the fact that she’d obviously called me Dickhead to the twins, because weirdly I didn’t, but I didn’t want her to know I’d been listening in on their conversation. Plus, it was kind of funny to watch her squirm – call it payback for calling me a dickhead.
“Okay, here we are,” Barney pronounced pulling into a tree-lined street. “What number was it again?”
“Oh sorry, 121,” Phoebe said, leaning forward in her seat to speak to Barney. “Just up there on the right, behind that white car will be great.”
Barney nodded and slowly drove forward.
“Thank you so much for this. It really was very kind of you.”
“Not a problem.” I waved her away and turned to look back through the windshield.
It was a nice road. The houses were two-story, neat and tidy, and each one looked pretty much like all the others. All the lawns at the front were hidden behind fences or hedges, and each had a driveway running up the side.
“Your sister lived here long?” I asked.
“About nine years. She lived here…before.”
I took it that ‘before’ meant before the boys’ fuck-up of a father abandoned them – for another woman, no doubt. In my experience, men who left their wife and kids only ever left for someone else – it was never because they’d decided married life wasn’t for them and they’d be a better parent living alone; no, never for that reason. That’s what my own shit of a dad had done – left us for someone else when I was just five years old. I suppose I was lucky he’d stuck around that long, but when a younger, less drunk model showed him some attention, he didn’t waste any more time. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame him for leaving. Sue-Ann Miller, my darling mom, was a Grade-A pain in the ass, whose idea of getting the vitamins she needed,
was taking OJ with her vodka. What I did blame him for, was leaving me with her. Dad and I were tight. He took me fishing and let me help him fix his bike, read me stories at bedtime, he even had my name tattooed on his arm, yet he still rode away while I sobbed on our front lawn begging him to come back. He never tried to contact me, not even when I became a movie star – which I guess is props to him.
He was still living and breathing. I knew because I hired a PI to track him down. I didn’t want to contact him, but I suppose I wanted to tie up my loose ends before I signed on as Addison Yates. I wanted to know whether he was likely to come at me for cash, or even have some story printed in the newspaper about being my long-lost father. Apparently, he didn’t need me or my money. He worked as a mechanic at a bike shop and was married to some woman ten years younger than him, who cut hair and did mani- pedis for a living – she wasn’t even the one he’d left me behind for. They lived in a quiet cul-de-sac in Dayton, Ohio, had no kids, and rode with a mom and pop motorcycle club on the weekends. He lived the simple life of any normal, fifty-eight year old man and appeared to have never looked back – not the day he rode his bike from our house, or ever since.
As soon as Barney pulled up alongside the curb, the boys had their door open, ready to bolt.
“Hey, boys,” Phoebe said. “What do you say to Barney and Mr. James for the lift home?”
“Thank you,” they chorused, high-fiving Barney’s raised hand.
“Yes, thank you both. It was really very kind of you.” Phoebe flashed us both a smile and bent to pick up her bag from the floor board.
“You have to come in and see Mummy,” Mack chimed, leaning between the two seats.
“Mack,” Phoebe warned, glancing at me. “Mr. James and Barney have things to do. They probably need to get back.”
“Yeah,” Callum gasped. “Come and have tea with us.”
“I don’t drink tea, buddy.” I shrugged.
“No, not tea you drink, silly. Tea that you eat. Tea, tea.”
“He means dinner,” Phoebe explained, although I already knew; I was just messing with the kid.
“Maybe we could come in for a few minutes.”
I had no idea what made me suggest it, the words just fell from my mouth without any thought from my brain. Yet, I didn’t hate the idea. I wanted to go in and meet their mom.
“I-I don’t know,” Phoebe stuttered, looking between me and Barney. “Beth has, well she’s been-”
At that moment, a slim, pretty woman, about Phoebe’s height but with dark auburn hair, approached the car, bending to peer around the open door and into the car.
“Mack, Callum, what’s …what are you doing in that car?” she asked with a hint of trepidation.
“Beth, it’s fine,” Phoebe called, stooping down so her sister could see her. “I’m here. We got a lift back from the studio.”
Beth appeared in the rear passenger doorway and opened it wider. “Wow,” she exclaimed looking inside. “This is nice.”
She then turned to look at me and as soon as she recognized me, her mouth dropped open into a huge o shape.
“Hi,” I said, giving her a quick wave. “Grantley James, you must be Beth.”
She nodded, her eyes widened and her mouth still gaping.
“Isn’t it cool Mummy?” Mack said. “We’ve watched a film and Dick said he’s going to come inside for a few minutes.”
Beth looked at Phoebe and then back at me.
“Only if that’s okay with you,” I replied, giving the shocked woman a winning smile.
She nodded again.
“Dick was awesome today Mummy. He punched this big ugly man.” To demonstrate, Callum started to throw punches into mid-air.
“Dick?” she asked Phoebe, furrowing her brow.
Phoebe didn’t answer, but shook her head.
“That’ll be me,” I said, flashing a grin at Phoebe. “It’s a name the boys gave me for some reason.”
“Oh, okay.” Beth looked at Barney, me, and then Phoebe. “Would you like to come in?”
“If that’s okay with you,” I replied, already unfastening my belt. “We have time, right Barney?”
Barney nodded. “Yes sir. We can spare some time.”
“I thought you had a thing,” Phoebe said, her brow furrowed.
“I do, but a few minutes won’t hurt. So, lead the way Beth.”
The boys scrambled out of the car, pushing Beth to one side, who stared after them, evidently totally dumfounded about the Hollywood Star visiting her home.
Phoebe
“I’m so sorry, Beth,” I hissed, as we both stood in the kitchen.
Beth was making a pot of coffee, while I put some pizza and garlic bread into the oven. I glanced up at her, anxiously waiting for a sign of any kind of how her appointment at the hospital had gone. We hadn’t had a chance to talk since Grantley James had strolled into the house, looking every inch the Hollywood star that he was. Mrs. Herbert from next door almost fainted into her open wheelie bin when she spotted him.
“God, don’t apologise. Do you know how many cool points this will give me with all the young ones at work? Grantley-flipping-James in my house.” Beth fanned herself and grinned. “Do you think he’d do a selfie with me for proof? Those little shits at work will never believe me otherwise.”
I chewed on my lip and watched my sister carefully. She certainly didn’t look devastated, but was she just putting on a show because Grantley and Barney were here.
“Beth, how did it go today?” I asked, brushing her hair from her face. “I didn’t dare call you in case it was bad news.”
Beth gave me one of her beautiful smiles and grabbed my hand.
“They don’t tell you anything on the day, sis.”
“Really?” My heart sank, knowing that we would have days, if not weeks, of tormented waiting.
“Listen, I know I was a total mess last night, but once I calmed down I remembered that Dr. Phillips said she thought it might be a cyst and the mammogram was a precaution. So, that’s what I’m going with.”
I watched Beth as she went back to the coffee making. If she could look on the positive side, then so could I.
“Anyway,” Beth said, suddenly turning to me. “How come Grantley James gave you a lift all the way back from Manchester, and why were the boys with you?”
“Well,” I started with a quiet laugh. “You forgot that Wendy was in Tenerife, so I had to take the boys to the studio with me.”
Beth gasped and slapped a hand against her mouth. “Oh my God, I did. I’m so sorry. Shit, did you get into trouble?”
I shook my head and leaned closer to speak quietly into her ear. “No, the director is really lovely, and Grantley appears to have become best buddies with the boys. I’m so shocked Beth, he’s been nothing but a dickhead since we started filming, but with the boys today, he was brilliant.”
Beth started to giggle. “You called him dickhead in front of the boys didn’t you? Which is why they keep calling him Dick.”
“Yep,” I groaned. “But that’s the other thing, he appears to have taken it really well.”
“He seems perfectly lovely to me.” She sighed, and gazed at me with dreamy eyes.
“To look at maybe, but up until today, he was a misery without a sense of humour.”
“Who’s that you’re talking about?”
The sexy, almost throaty voice of Grantley James echoed around Beth’s kitchen and if I could have squeezed myself into the washing machine to hide, I would have.
“Oh, my neighbour next door but one,” Beth said without pausing – shit she was good. “He’s a miserable old sod, but he told the boys a joke this morning.”
Grantley looked at me, folding his arms over his chest. It was a very nice chest, it had to be said. Solid, but not too buff or big, but stretching his black t-shirt quite nicely. Anyway, he was looking at me so intently I wondered if he was reading my mind. When he parted his jean clad legs, almost posing, his eyes still on me, I was po
sitive he was.
“Yes, Mr. Douglas,” I said, with a wide smile. “He’s normally rude but today he took us by surprise. I was just telling Beth about it.”
“Okay.” He nodded and turned to Beth. “So Beth, I hope you don’t mind, but Mack and Callum persuaded us to stay for tea.”
I couldn’t stop the ‘no’ that rushed from my mouth in a gust of air. Grantley looked at me and smirked.
“No?”
“You…well you have that thing, Barney said.” I pointed towards the wall that I assumed Barney was on the other side of.
“Barney is making my apologies as we speak.”
“But, we’re having pizza and garlic bread.”
“Barney and I love pizza.”
Grantley’s smirk was almost indistinguishable, but I saw it. I saw the twinkle in his eye and the twitch of his lips.
“We only have one. Beth, that was the only one in the freezer.”
“No worries,” Grantley said, with a hint of laughter. “I’m guessing there’s a pizza take out place around here.” He turned to Beth again. “If you don’t mind us staying, I’d like to buy us all pizza for dinner. It would actually be my pleasure.”
As I watched Grantley smile at Beth, my heart missed a beat. He was looking at her so reverently, with a gentle smile touching his lips. Oh my God, he fancied my sister.
“You don’t need to do that,” Beth said brightly, evidently not seeing what I saw. “I’m sure I can find another pizza at the bottom of the freezer somewhere.”
“No,” Grantley said, shaking his head. “I insist. When you see how much Barney and I eat, you’ll be glad I offered.”
“Well, if you insist.”
Beth opened up the junk drawer and moving aside a tube of glue and two screwdrivers, she found the menu for the local take-out place. She passed it to Grantley.
“They’ve got most things, but it’s no Pizza Hut.”
Grantley looked down at the menu for a few seconds and then back up to Beth, flashing her one of his best Hollywood smiles.
“Looks good to me. I’ll go and check what the boys want.”
“I’ve already got a pepperoni pizza in the oven,” I said, hearing a definite flatness to my tone.