by Nikki Ashton
“Fuck off,” I snapped. “I think she’s a great mom, is all. It couldn’t have been easy bringing up twins alone, but those kids are amazing and that’s all down to her. My fucking mother barely managed to drag me up, so I have the uttermost respect for Beth, and that’s it.”
“Ah, so that’s what the fuzzy little smile was all about?”
I let out a laugh. “I don’t have a fucking fuzzy little smile. I barely smile, period.”
“You do around those two sisters. A fuzzy little one for Beth and a ‘shit I really wanna kiss you’ one for Phoebe.”
He wasn’t wrong there. I think I really did want to kiss her – fuck it, I knew I did.
“She’s a cool girl, I’ll give you that.”
I looked out at the side window, watching the scenery as we joined the freeway – or whatever they called them in the UK.
“Just admit it man,” Barney chuckled. “You’ve got a boner for the girl.”
I swung my head around. “Hey, watch your damn mouth.”
“I’m sorry, but that kind of proves what I’m saying.” Barney grinned at me and slapped the steering wheel. “Well, I’ll be.”
“Ah shut up and drive.” I growled but couldn’t help the smile that was spread across my face.
The next morning, it took me forever to get out of bed. I hardly drank, so the three glasses of wine I’d had at Beth’s had left me feeling a little heavy headed. Plus, as usual, I’d slept like shit. I didn’t drink because I’d seen first-hand what a destructive thing alcohol was. I also didn’t drink because above everything, I was a professional who wanted to get to the top of his career – I’d seen too many actors waste their potential and talent by drinking or doing drugs. I’d worked too fucking hard to throw it all away on a bottle of Jack.
I’d known from an early age that I wanted to act. I’d never dreamed I’d be a movie star, but I hoped that I could make a decent living from it. I think my love for acting first started after my dad left. Life was so shit, I’d play act in my room, pretending that I lived a different life. I was Grantley Miller - the doctor, or Grantley Miller- the cop, or spy – anyone but Grantley Miller- the thin, short, neglected kid of Sue-Ann Miller and abandoned son of Trent Miller. I started to read aloud to myself, using different voices for the characters and eventually borrowed copies of plays from the library and performed them to no one but myself and the various bears and toys dotted around my room.
Then, when I was sixteen and I’d grown tall and filled out, I finally plucked up the courage to join the drama club at school. I’d always shied away from it before, choosing to play baseball instead. Don’t judge me, I was a teenager desperate to get laid and a high school sport was a more reliable means to an end. I only really joined drama club because Stacie Kimble did. She was blonde haired, blue-eyed, and had the best tits in school and every guy wanted her. The next play being performed by the club was to be a modern version of Romeo & Juliet and I figured Stacie would be a shoe in for Juliet. This meant that if I joined I’d get to be Romeo and maybe get to kiss her. I admit I was an over confident prick who didn’t rate any of those already in the club, but it turned out I was right to be so. We got the leads and I got my onstage kiss with Stacie, which led to me fucking her backstage at the last night party – that was also the night I got my first blowjob. In hindsight, it wasn’t a great BJ, but when you’re sixteen just the sight of a girl’s lips around your dick is enough to cause an explosion at the yogurt factory.
Aside from the sexual experience, joining the drama club was the best thing I ever did. My teacher saw something in me. He saw my talent and pushed me to go for an audition for the part of Sebastian in a stage version of Cruel Intentions. If I got it, it’d be a huge step for me – it was being performed in a proper theatre, the Paramount in Cedar Rapids, sixteen miles or so South East of Shellsburg where I lived. Mr. James coached and helped me and I would be forever grateful, because I got the part. Yep, I used his name when I registered with SAG; why not, he believed in me, unlike my shit of a father whose name I unfortunately inherited. I got that first break when I was just eighteen and after the run finished, I packed my bags and moved to LA. Within a year, I’d managed to get Marcia to take me on as a client and after a couple of years of bit parts in theatre, some TV ads, and a minor role in a daytime soap for a three-week stint, she got me a supporting role in a movie. According to the critics, I outshone the lead actor in the fast cars and loose women movie about a guy trying to escape a Mexican drug cartel – I played the part of student doing some travelling who got caught up in the drama. After that, I got the lead in a buddy movie about a guy trying to decide whether he should propose to his girl or not. The role was nothing like Addison Yates, but the studio must have seen something, because I was the second person they called to take over from Ryan. Okay, so it smarts a little that I was only second, but I figured Jake Gyllenhaal probably deserved the call first. Thank fuck he didn’t think it was for him, because at twenty-six I was living the dream and would do whatever I could to keep it that way.
“You okay?” Barney asked, shoving a mug of coffee at me.
“Yep, just know it’s going to be a long fucking day.”
“You’ve got some time before we need to leave.” Barney looked at his watch. “Your call isn’t for another hour and thirty.”
“I’ll drink this and then take a shower.”
Barney nodded and left me to drink my coffee, eat my toast, and read through the day’s script. I was just about coming around, when my cell shrilled out with the ring tone of a nuclear war siren – my fucking mother.
I looked at the screen for a few seconds, wondering how many times she’d call back if I dropped the call, but before I could decide what to do, Barney’s huge hand appeared, picked it up, and answered it.
“Sue-Ann,” he said, looking at me with a huge-ass grin. “Yep, he’s here.”
“You fucker,” I muttered and snatched my cell from him. “Sue-Ann, what do you want?”
“I’m your damn mother, Grantley, so why do you insist on calling me by my name?”
“Because you’d kind of need to deserve to be called mom, Sue-Ann, and in no sense of the word are you deserving of that moniker.”
She sighed on the other end. “I did everything I could to be a good mother to you. You have no idea how hard it was bringing you up alone.”
“I have an idea, seeing as I kind of brought myself up.” I drummed my fingers on the table, my impatience almost bubbling over. “What do you want, as if I have to ask?”
“I don’t always want money, Grantley,” she replied sulkily.
“Oh okay, you just called to see how I was? Or, to wish me good luck with the movie? Or did you call to tell me you’re moving to Africa to work as a humanitarian envoy?”
“There’s no need to be so sarcastic or rude, I’m still your mother.”
“Un-fucking-fortunately,” I hissed under my breath. “So, I’ll ask again, what do you want? No actually, Sue-Ann, I’ll rephrase that, how much do you want?”
“Nothing, I don’t want any money. So, what do you have to say about that Mr. Smartypants?”
“Well, I’m shocked to say the least,” I said, and I was, but I was also wondering when the other shoe would drop. “If not money, what?”
Bang - my size twelve, Italian leather, tan colored brogue fell to the fucking floor.
“I want to come visit. In fact, I’ve already bought my ticket.”
Phoebe
“You like him, don’t you?” Beth asked as she turned into the railway station car park.
She was taking the boys out for the day, so she had given me a lift. It had meant Mack and Callum getting up early, for a non-school day, but they were still buzzing from meeting Grantley and being on set, so it wasn’t too difficult a task.
“Who?” I reached down for my bag, wondering which of the numerous pockets I’d put my rail pass into.
“You know who. Grantley,” she whispered, glan
cing at Callum and Mack in the back seat through the rear-view mirror. “I can tell by the looks you were giving him.”
“I was not.”
And I really wasn’t, not to my knowledge anyway. I didn’t think I looked at him any differently than I did Barney.
“Anyway, it’s you he has a thing for.” I grinned at her.
“Hah,” Beth spat out a laugh. “That’s ridiculous and you know it, you’re just trying to deflect.”
“No I’m not.”
“Yes you are, just like you did last night over the zoo incident.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, and I haven’t forgiven you for that either.”
“Ah, don’t be a spoilsport, it was funny.” Manoeuvring into a parking space, Beth called over her shoulder. “Okay boys, grab your coats and backpacks.”
“Where are we going?” Mack asked.
“You’ll see when we get there, it’s a surprise.”
“Where are you going?” I asked, opening the passenger door after she pulled to a stop.
Beth shrugged. “No idea, depends which train comes in first, but probably Liverpool.”
“Well, I’ll be late tonight, so don’t bother with any dinner for me.”
“Okay,” Beth nodded. “We probably won’t be back until early evening anyway, so we’ll eat out.”
Once outside the car, I bent to kiss the boys.
“Have a great day you two.”
Callum kicked a stone. “I wish we could go and watch the film again and see Dick.”
I grimaced inwardly at him calling Grantley, Dick, but hey it was done now.
“Ooh you meanie,” Beth cried, clutching a hand to her heart. “I can’t believe you don’t want to spend the day with me, your amazing mum.”
Callum looked horrified that he’d upset her. “No, I do, but I wanted to see Dick and it’s so exciting watching the film being made.”
“There’s loads of fighting,” Mack added, grabbing Beth’s hand and shaking it excitedly.
“Not today, buddy,” I said with a sigh. “It’s a really boring day today. Lots of scenes with just talking, no action at all.”
Mack nodded. “Okay.”
“Will you say hello to Dick for us?” Callum asked. “And don’t forget the picture.”
“I won’t,” I said ruffling his hair. “It’s safe in my bag.”
The boys had drawn a picture for Grantley as a thank you for the lift home and for staying for dinner. Neither of my nephews were budding artists, so I imagined it wasn’t going to be particularly good. I didn’t know because they’d put it in an envelope marked ‘Dick Private’, which made the school girl inside me giggle.
By the time I reached the studio, I just had time to go over to catering and grab a coffee, before I needed to get to the holding area. There were a few crowd scenes being shot, and we were all being bussed out to the location.
After grabbing a coffee and stuffing down a chocolate croissant, I was making my way out of the canteen, when Grantley came striding in, his phone glued to his ear. He looked at me so I gave a wave, but he didn’t respond and stormed straight past me, up to the counter.
“I need you here, Marcia.”
His voice was loud and hard, causing everyone to turn and look at him. As he reached the counter, he banged his hand down and demanded ‘coffee, black’. Claire, one of the catering girls, used to prima donna actors didn’t bat an eyelash and poured Grantley his coffee, popped on the lid and passed it to him. How they did that I had no idea. I hated rudeness and Grantley had just been plain rude. I watched as, resting his phone between his neck and chin, he snatched up a packet of sugar, ripped it open, pulled off the lid and poured the sugar into the coffee, before throwing the empty packet on the counter top and slamming the lid to the cup back on. There was a bloody waste bin only a couple of feet away from him. This wasn’t the same man who had insisted on cleaning up wine glasses and pizza boxes before leaving Beth’s house the night before.
As I was about to turn and leave, Grantley started walking my way. His eyes turned towards me and as they did he growled into the phone.
“Get here Marcia, no excuses.”
He stabbed at the screen on his phone and stood in front of me.
“Hi,” I said, looking up at his tall frame.
Grantley’s eye twitched a couple of times before he finally spoke.
“Morning. How are you?”
“Fine. You?”
There seemed to be a tension between us and I wasn’t sure why. He’d left on perfectly good terms the night before. Maybe that was it, he was regretting giving me, a lowly extra, a lift and then staying to have dinner with me and my family. Well if that was it, he could shove his attitude where the sun didn’t shine, i.e.-up his bum.
“Not really,” he sighed, taking a sip of his coffee and wincing. “Fuck, this coffee is shit. Why the hell don’t they get some decent stuff? I swear it’s that instant stuff you Brits insist on drinking.”
“Maybe if you spoke to Claire, the girl behind the counter,” I pointed to Claire who was busy pouring a cup of tea for someone, “and told her your preference to fresh coffee, she would make sure that’s what you got. Otherwise, it’s likely you’re going to get the instant stuff that we Brits insist on drinking.”
Grantley tilted his head and shoving a hand into his jean pocket, studied me.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m just wondering why you always feel the need to repeat things back to me when you’re giving me crap.”
“Take it as a compliment,” I said, turning to walk away. “You’re obviously so eloquent I can’t think of anything better to hit back at you with, except your own words.”
Grantley let out a laugh and shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. “You brighten my fucking day, Peepee, you really do.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so decided to say nothing and walk away.
“Hey,” Grantley called. “Where are you going?”
“The holding area.”
I didn’t turn but kept walking, only for Grantley to fall into step beside me.
“I’ll be nicer to catering,” he said, bending slightly to speak into my ear. “I promise.”
I glanced at him and frowned when I saw a grin on his face. A strand of hair fell into his eyes and my hand twitched at my side, wanting to brush it away so I could see his eyes that were unusually full of humour. They didn’t show it often, usually they were dark with surliness or anger – he really should try it more often, they were beautiful when he did.
Clearing my throat, I turned away. “Well make sure you do.”
“Promise.”
I didn’t need to look at Grantley to know he was laughing at me.
“So what’s crawled up your backside and bitten your nadgers, to get you in such a bad mood?”
Coffee spurted out in front of us as Grantley spluttered out a laugh.
“What the fuck are my nadgers?”
I stopped in my tracks and looked up at him with cocked brows.
“Your nuts, your bollocks, what else would they be?”
Grantley shrugged. “I had no idea. Sorry, it’s not a word I picked up from watching EastEnders on the BBC World Service channel.”
“You don’t watch that, you liar.”
“What the BBC World Service or EastEnders?”
“Either.”
“I watch both, or I did. I had a really small part as a British college kid in an episode of Breaking Bad.”
My eyes widened. “No way, I bloody love Breaking Bad. I don’t remember any British college kid.”
“There wasn’t; I was cut from the scene. I went into Walter’s classroom to give another kid a message and for some crazy reason they wanted me to be British. Because I’m a true professional, I wanted to deliver my three lines with the correct accent, so I watched the BBC and particularly, EastEnders, for three weeks solid.”
I burst out laughing. “And they still cut you?”
Grantley nodded with a sigh. “Yep, I ended up on the cutting room floor.”
He actually looked hurt as he pouted around the lid of his corrugated take-out cup.
“Sorry,” I replied.
“Ah it’s fine, but the point is I’ve never heard the word nadgers.”
“Well, now you have. So, you still haven’t answered me. What’s got you so moody? Are you regretting taking me and the boys home and staying for dinner?”
I had very little filter when something was concerning me. I liked open and honest, even if it was with the leading actor in the Hollywood movie that I was on as a mere extra. Grantley must have been a little taken aback too, because he pulled up and straightened his shoulders.
“Why the hell would you think that?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. You were fine when you left and then just strutted past me like I was invisible.”
He rubbed a hand over his stubble and closed his eyes.
“I can assure you it’s not you, your nephews, or your sister that has me so antsy.”
At the mention of Beth, I pulled in a sharp breath and felt a little stab in my breast bone. God, what a bitch I was. If he liked Beth, which I was pretty sure he did, I should be happy for her. She deserved some fun and someone to care about her.
“Beth really enjoyed your company last night,” I said, looking down at my shoes and making a mental note to polish them when I got home.
“Well I enjoyed it too, honestly.”
“You could take her on a date,” I blurted out. “I’d look after the boys.”
Grantley’s eyes doubled in size as he leaned his upper body closer to me.
“What? I-I like Beth, but-”
“Honestly it’s fine. I know you’re not here for long, but you could just be company for each other.”
He looked around the room and everyone who was watching our interaction all turned away, or carried on their conversations.
“Seriously Phoebe,” he hissed. “I don’t have a thing for Beth. Not like that.”