Do You Do Extras? (An American in the UK Book 1)

by Nikki Ashton

  “I wasn’t the one he left with, you know.”

  Deanna’s admission surprised me. Did she think I blamed her – because I didn’t, what happened was purely down to Sue-Ann and Trent.

  “I-I didn’t know that,” I stammered. “But to be honest, I hadn’t really thought about it.”

  “I just thought maybe you did – think it was me, I mean. Because if you did, you’d probably blame me for the crap those two have had to go through for twenty-years.”

  “The way I see it, Mr. Miller made his own choices.”

  Deanna smiled wistfully and looked up at the house. “Yes, he did. Choices he’s regretted every day since. He wishes with every bone in his body that he hadn’t left that boy behind.”

  “Well,” I replied with an empty laugh. “From what I know of her, Sue-Ann wouldn’t have made it easy for him.”

  “Yeah, I heard she was a real piece of work, and I guess this lie she’s told Grantley just proves it.” She frowned. “You have any idea why she would tell him Trent needed a kidney?”

  I shook my head. “None whatsoever. I doubt that it was to help reconcile them though, she’s really not that charitable and what I know of her only scratches the ugly surface.”

  Hearing the clatter of a screen door, we both turned towards the house to see Trent and Grantley coming down the deck steps. Grantley rubbed his temples, while Trent’s head hung low. They were walking side by side and if it wasn’t for the bombshell Trent had dropped, you’d have thought they were biological father and son. Both were tall, with wide shoulders and long legs, and while they didn’t look alike, both were handsome. I was sure the comment ‘you can see where Grantley gets his looks from’, would have been a common phrase from people who didn’t know the truth. It was also then that I noticed the thick rings and leather bracelets that Trent wore. They were almost identical to those that Grantley had on, and it made my heart ache just a little bit more.

  “Trent says Grantley looks like his mother, except for the eyes,” Deanna commented, as if reading my mind. “I guess they’re his father’s.”

  “He does a little,” I replied, realising he did. “But it’s what’s inside that counts, and thankfully he’s nothing like her in that way, so maybe Trent had more of an influence than he thinks.”

  Deanna gave me a beaming smile and took in a deep breath. “You two okay?” she asked as the men reached us.

  Trent nodded and laid one of his big hands on the top of her head, just as he’d done with Grantley earlier. She closed her eyes and basked under her husband’s touch.

  “Hey, pretty girl.” Grantley bent to kiss my cheek. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine, how are you?” I took his hand in both of mine and lifted it to my lips.

  “Okay.” He glanced at Trent and then back to me. “We had a good talk.”

  “Why don’t you both sit and have some lemonade,” Deanna said, reaching for the jug.

  “Sounds good to me, honey.” Trent smiled at her, and sat down on one of the garden chairs.

  “Please, Grantley,” Deanna said. “Sit and have a drink.”

  “Thank you.” Grantley pulled out the chair next to mine and lowered himself into it. “This is a nice back yard.”

  “Thanks so- err, thanks Grantley. It took a while to get it how we wanted it, but it was worth the hard work.” Trent’s face reddened at his mistake.

  “Well you’ve done a great job, D-dad.”

  My heart doubled in size at the joy on Trent’s face as Grantley said ‘dad’. He might have stumbled over it, but the sentiment was evident. Trent was his dad, no matter what. I didn’t doubt they had a long road to take, but Grantley was showing that he wanted to try.

  “So,” Deanna said, her voice breaking. “How long are you kids here for?”

  “We have to go back tomorrow,” Grantley sighed. “I only got three days grace from my director. He gave me enough time to get here, persuade you to take my kidney, and then get back.”

  “Shit,” Trent said. “That’s what I call a whirlwind visit. Although, I’m sorry you had to make it in the first place.”

  “I’m not,” Grantley replied. “Otherwise I’d never have found out the truth.”

  “I take it you don’t need a kidney, Mr. Miller?”

  Trent shook his head. “Nope honey, I don’t, and please call me Trent.”

  “It seems Sue-Ann was lying,” Grantley added. “Dad doesn’t need a kidney at all. In fact, he has two perfectly healthy ones.”

  “That’s horrible,” I cried. “Why would she say that? She told us you’d asked her for help Deanna.”

  “I’ve never spoken to the woman.” Deanna took hold of Trent’s hand. “Why on earth would she say that about you?”

  Trent shrugged. “Grantley has his ideas on that.”

  We all looked to Grantley.

  “As sick as it sounds, I think she was hoping to sell my kidney to someone.”

  Deanna and I both gasped. Ice flowed through my veins and nausea rolled around my stomach.

  “The evil bitch,” I said barely above a whisper. “Oh my God, Grantley.”

  Grantley took my hand and gave it a squeeze, before bringing it to his lips and kissing the top of it.

  “She’s not going to get away with it,” he said, soothingly. “So quit worrying.”

  “But what if she had? What if you hadn’t decided to tell your dad, and had believed Deanna was keeping it from him because he wouldn’t accept it?”

  The fear of what might have happened gripped me. Okay, so he was going to go into a proper hospital, but they must have been in on it for Sue-Ann’s vile plan to work.

  “The hospital, or clinic you were going into would have to be in on it,” I said, voicing my thoughts. “She said you’d have tests there, so they have to know what she was up to.”

  “Maybe, but I’ll find out more when we get back.”

  “What’re you going to do?” Trent asked, concern written all over his face.

  Grantley looked up at him, his own features set into a determined stare. “I’m going to report her and the clinic to the police.”

  “That’s a big thing,” Trent replied. “Giving your own mom up to the cops.”

  “I don’t care. She’s been a shit mother all my life and now it’s time for her to pay for everything she’s done. If that means her going to prison, well tough shit.”

  “Can I have five minutes with her first?” I asked.

  Grantley laughed and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “It will be my pleasure, pretty girl.”

  “Shit,” Grantley gasped, as he looked down at the box full of clippings and photographs. “You really did follow my career.”

  Trent dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Too much?” he asked.

  “No, not at all.” He placed a hand on Trent’s back. “It’s good to know that you cared.”

  Trent looked up at him and smiled. “I always cared, son. Never stopped. I just made some stupid decisions. I thought about coming to see you a while ago, but figured you had a relationship with him and I’d just be the memory of some guy who’d been in your life for a while when you were a little kid. But I had no claim on you, son.” Trent’s eyes shone as he looked reverently at Grantley. “Truth be told, I was scared to death that if by some chance you remembered me, you’d reject me anyway. Then you became a Hollywood movie star and I was the bum who walked out on you. So this lot,” he said, waving a hand at the box, “was my way of staying close.”

  Grantley blew out his cheeks and swiped at his eyes, before reaching down and touching a photograph with his fingertip. “Can I have some copies of these?”

  “Of course,” Trent replied, clearing his throat.

  “There’s another box in the office,” Deanna said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “There’s a lot more in there for you to choose from.”

  “You’re kidding?” I asked, gazing at the mass of memorabilia, working with Deanna to help mend a rift that
should never have been there.

  “Nope.” She sighed and kissed Trent’s cheeks. “The box in the office is just this year’s press and magazine clippings, so truth be told, it’s only half full.”

  Grantley burst out laughing and picked up a newspaper clipping.

  “’Addison Yates goes out for bagels’,” he read, with a shake of his head. “I visit the bakery every damn week. Who the hell decides this shit is newsworthy?”

  “I don’t care. It meant I got to see you over the last few years.”

  “How did you know it was me?” Grantley asked. “Or even find out that I was acting?”

  “I think it was fate. I bumped into our old neighbor, Mrs. Zominski, you remember her?”

  Grantley nodded.

  “She was helping to supervise her youngest daughter’s class trip. They were visiting a couple of museums in Dayton and I happened to be delivering a bike back to a guy who worked at the Airforce Museum. I bumped into her while I was waiting for the guy and we recognized each other. She was the one who told me you’d just got that part, as the student in the drug movie. Apparently, she saw Sue-Ann regularly at the store and she’d been boasting about you.”

  “He went to see that movie six times,” Deanna said, smiling lovingly at Trent.

  “You recognized me okay?”

  “Of course I did,” Trent replied, his voice almost a whisper. “I’d know my son anywhere.”

  Trent held Grantley’s gaze, his eyes pleading for forgiveness, yet again. He’d spent all afternoon saying that he was sorry, but while it would take time, I had the feeling Grantley blamed Sue-Ann far more than he did his father.

  Sensing the atmosphere change a little, I picked up a photograph of Grantley as a young boy.

  “Oh look how cute you were,” I gushed, grabbing Grantley’s attention. “How old were you?”

  The picture was of Grantley holding in one hand a baseball bat, which was far too big for him, and in the other a helmet, which also looked huge.

  “Damn, I don’t know,” he replied, looking over my shoulder. “Do you know, Dad?”

  Trent looked at the picture. “You were four and that was Labor Day. We’d been to the park and you’d seen some bigger kids playing and wanted to join in, and threw a real tantrum when they said no. I had to give them twenty dollars for ice-cream to let you play. Then, on the way home you said you were going to play for the New York Yankees when you grew up. So, I got all my old stuff out from the garage.”

  “The Yankees, eh? Well it’s not like Iowa has a major league team does it?” Grantley laughed and shook his head. “I really did have ideas above my station, didn’t I?”

  “Maybe,” Trent replied. “But I always told you, aim high-.”

  “Because there’s always someone out there who wants to be bigger” Grantley said, finishing off his dad’s sentence.

  Both men looked at each other and grinned.

  “You remembered.”

  “Yeah Dad, I remembered. I also remember what a great dad you were before you left, so stop beating yourself up about it.”

  God, this man blew me away with his graciousness towards his dad, who now looked as though he was about to cry. Deanna obviously picked up on it too, because as in any difficult situation, she did what any woman worth her salt did – she offered us food.

  “Who’s hungry? I have left over pot roast and can steam some vegetables.”

  I groaned and rubbed my stomach where the sandwiches and cake from lunch still sat. “Not for me thanks, Deanna. I’m still full.”

  Grantley gave her a dazzling smile. “Me neither. In fact we should think about going. I need to call Marcia, my agent, and we have an early start in the morning.”

  “So soon?” she moaned.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

  “Okay,” she said, cupping Grantley’s cheek. “But you make sure you come back and visit again soon.”

  I saw how Grantley slightly leaned in to Deanna’s touch and for a brief second closed his eyes. He was getting the motherly comfort from her that he’d always needed and always wanted from Sue-Ann and it broke my heart. He missed out on this because of that woman, and I would never forgive her.

  “You will keep in touch, won’t you?” Trent asked, a few minutes later as he led us outside.

  “Of course I will. As soon as I get back to the US, I’ll call you.”

  Trent nodded and held out his hand, but before Grantley had time to shake it, Trent changed his mind and pulled him into a tight hug, clapping Grantley’s back with his huge palm.

  “Have a safe journey, son.”

  Grantley swallowed, and evidently too emotional to speak, merely nodded.

  “You too, honey.” Trent grabbed me into a bear hug and squeezed tight. “Both of you stay here next time, not some hotel that costs a damn fortune.”

  “Trent’s right,” Deanna said, grabbing both our hands. “This is your home too, so there’ll always be a bed for you both.”

  Emotion scratched at my throat and hit the centre of my chest. I would probably never see them again, because once Grantley finished the film, he’d be back here and I’d be in the UK. The pain behind that thought was unbearable. Fearful to speak in case I cried, I simply smiled and nodded.

  “I’ll call you, I promise,” Grantley said, and with one last hug for his father, we left the house and walked back to the rental car in silence. Both of us fearful of the future, but I suspected, for very different reasons.

  Grantley

  We arrived back in the UK at just after one in the morning, with our body clocks thinking it was only 8 p.m. I knew I wouldn’t sleep for hours, so I was relieved when Barney told us Alexi had given me a midday call time. At least I might get some sleep before I had to go be Addison Yates.

  “Well, that’s one fucked up story,” Barney said after I’d explained what had happened in Ohio. “What you gonna do about her?”

  “Call the police.”

  “Grantley,” Phoebe said, placing a hand on my arm. “You need to think about it and talk to Marcia first.”

  “No, Phoebes, I don’t.”

  We’d been having the very same discussion since we’d left my dad’s house. I wanted to go to the police, but Phoebe thought I should hear what Marcia had to say first. She was worried that it all coming out might hurt my career.

  “There will be a huge amount of publicity, Grantley,” she said. “Is that something you need right now, especially as you’re looking for some more serious projects.”

  Barney looked at us through the rear-view mirror. “Phoebe has a point. You don’t need that shit.”

  “But, she can’t get away with it,” I protested.

  “No one says she has to,” Barney replied. “But there’s more than one way to catch a ‘gator, and I reckon Marcia knows every fucking one of them.”

  “Where does the old witch think we’ve been, anyway?” I asked.

  “I told her you were on location. She’s been sleeping or drunk most of the time, so hasn’t questioned it.”

  “Won’t she find it odd, us coming back at this time of night? And the fact that I’m with you?”

  “You’re not going home, Phoebes.” I kissed her temple, inhaling her scent at the same time. “I want you with me.”

  “Don’t worry, Phoebe.” Barney let out a deep chuckle. “I gave her a sleeping tablet with her dinner. She’ll be out for hours.”

  “Oh my God, isn’t that dangerous, giving her pills with alcohol?” Phoebe asked, gripping my arm.

  “So,” I snorted at the same time as Barney said, ‘No’.

  “I swapped the vodka for water, she was asleep before she realized.”

  Our deep laughs mingled together while Phoebe gasped.

  “You two are terrible.”

  “No pretty girl, she’s the terrible one. In fact, she’s the fucking evil one. I’m surprised her body didn’t go into shock with the introduction of water anyway.”

  “I have to say, I’m
shocked,” Barney said, shaking his head slowly, his smile over my water joke fading quickly. “Never thought she’d go this far,” he mumbled.

  “It’s no big shock. She’s a lowlife drunk and junkie and nothing she does surprises me.”

  When we got to the hotel, we were shocked to see Marcia waiting for us in the suite. She was pacing up and down, screaming at someone on the phone. From the conversation it sounded as though one of her clients had failed to turn up for an audition and was getting the choicest of Marcia’s language.

  “I’m telling you, you little bastard, turn up for tomorrow’s audition or I will drop you quicker than a hooker drops a puss ridden cock.”

  “Nice.” I grimaced at the visual and flopped down onto the sofa, pulling Phoebe down with me.

  “Oh you’re back,” Marcia growled, ending the call and throwing her cell onto the coffee table. “So, what the fuck happened? Did you and Daddy Dearest have a warm and loving reunion or did you punch the twat into next week?”

  Barney rolled his eyes and nodded toward Phoebe. “You want a drink, honey?”

  “A tea would be lovely,” she replied.

  “Anyone else?”

  “Whiskey.” Marcia snapped.

  “Grantley?”

  “Nothing for me, thanks buddy.”

  As Barney walked toward the kitchen, I turned to Phoebe. “Are you letting him make your tea? You didn’t let me.”

  “Barney makes lovely tea and I don’t think you would.”

  “Oh is that so?” I asked with a grin.

  “Yep.”

  As I watched her cute little face break into a smile, I couldn’t help but snatch a kiss. That’s how I’d been all the way home, wanting to kiss and touch her – I’d even suggested joining the Mile High Club, but she hadn’t been up for it. Good job really, because some poor bastard definitely had bad guts. It wouldn’t have been the most romantic of liaisons, me fucking Phoebe with the smell of shit permeating the air.

  “Will you two quit acting like high school kids and tell me what the fuck happened.” Marcia sank down onto the opposite couch and scowled at us. “Is your dad taking the kidney?”