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

by Nikki Ashton

Barney’s deep chuckle reverberated around the room and only served to make me feel more like shit than I already did.

  “But, I can do it so much better,” I pouted, flopping down onto the armchair.

  “Don’t sweat it, Dick,” Mack said, copying the phrase he’d heard from Barney. “You can’t be good at everything.”

  “And you’re really rubbish at dancing,” Callum added. “Marcia, it’s your turn.”

  He yelled it so loudly, I had to stick my fingers in my ears.

  “Come on Marcia,” Barney yelled, joining in with the boys.

  The boys started clapping and chorusing, ‘Marcia, Marcia’, as they waited for my agent to appear. Finally, after a crescendo of noise, the lounge room door flung open and in strutted Marcia.

  “What the fu-.”

  “Woah,” Barney cried, cutting me off from dropping the f-bomb. “Where the hell did you get that outfit?”

  “They’re my football shorts,” Callum cried.

  “And my football socks,” Mack added.

  “It’s soccer, get it damn right.” Marcia curled her lip at them. “And I needed an outfit, so suck it up boys.”

  She waved a hand at them dismissively and stood in the spot where I’d just bombed at tap dancing. Marcia was wearing a tiny pair of shorts, no surprise seeing as they belonged to a six year old, and a pair of long white socks with a black band around the top, which came just above her shins. I’d always thought she was small, in height and stature, but the fact she was wearing the boys’ clothes showed just how tiny she was. On her feet she had her own sky-high shoes and her shirt tied around the waist, to show a hint of stomach. Added to that, she’d slicked back her bush of hair and added extra red to her lips.

  “And what are you performing for us, Marcia?” Mack asked, sitting up straight and grinning at her.

  Marcia gave a raspy smoker’s cough, slapped at her chest and said. “A little song by Rihanna.”

  My head shot around to look at Barney, who looked as alarmed as I probably did.

  “What song?” I asked, fear and dread washing over me.

  “You’ll see,” she rasped. “I need to use my cell.”

  Turning, she propped it on the fireplace, stabbed at the screen and turned back to her audience. The boys jumped excitedly in their seats, clapping their hands and swaying their little shoulders to the opening bars of none other than ‘Birthday Cake’.

  “Marcia,” I growled. “No.”

  “Ah go fudge yourself, Grantley.”

  Yep, we’d already had the conversation about the f-word.

  As the boys howled with laughter, she scowled at me and then as soon as Rihanna started to sing, she put her game face on, pouting and lip syncing to perfection.

  She slut dropped to the first line, slowly lifting her ass with straight legs then turning her back to us and damn well twerking.

  “Oh shit,” I groaned, covering my eyes with my hand.

  “Yay, Marcia,” Callum cried.

  I peeked through my fingers to see him high-five Mack and Marcia grab her crotch and do some sort of hip-hop moves with her shoulders.

  “Barney, make her stop,” I yelled above the loud music and screaming six year olds.

  “I can’t even move,” Barney groaned. “I’m paralyzed. Why the hell couldn’t it take my sight instead of my legs?”

  As Rihanna sang about ‘licking the icing off’, my sixty-year-old agent, actually put her pointer finger in her mouth, sucked it hard and then slowly pulled it out and wagged it at the boys. Callum and Mack squealed and bounced even harder.

  “This is amazing,” Mack yelled.

  “We should sing this at our party,” Callum screeched. “Instead of Happy Birthday.”

  Then as Marcia did a little ass shimmy – a sight that would forever be in my nightmares, while turning in a circle, Chris Brown started singing. Barney and I realized at the same time what was coming.

  “No!” I cried.

  “Marcia.” Barney’s eyes went wide.

  “Girl I wanna fu-.”

  Barney and I leapt forward at the same time, arms outstretched, hands grabbing desperately to get Marcia’s cell. Barney’s huge shoulders barged into mine, sending me airborne into Marcia who was doing her second slut drop of her routine. I tried to throw my body to one side, but Marcia decided at that moment to bend forward and shake her non-existent tits. I took her clean out, sending us both crashing into a heap on the floor.

  “Grantley, you stupid twat, get the fuck off me.”

  “Stop cursing,” I yelled, spreading my arms out, so as not to touch her. It was bad enough my groin was against her back. I’d have to shower, like a hundred times or something after this.

  “Shit,” Barney cried. “How the hell do you turn this thing off?”

  “What does he mean?” Callum asked. “He wants to foot her.”

  “It means he wants to kick her,” Mack answered, ever the sage. “She’s licked the icing off his cake, so he’s going to kick her.”

  “Ah that’s bad. Mummy says you should never hit a girl. He’s not a nice man, is he Dick?”

  Shit, out of the mouths of babes.

  Scrambling to my feet, I shot a pained look at Barney, who was still desperately stabbing at Marcia’s cell.

  “Barney, damn well hurry up.”

  “What’s your security code?” he shouted down at Marcia, who was groaning on the floor. “Marcia, quick. Code. Now.”

  “Alright, alright. Two, nine, seven, four.” She spat out the code and flipped over onto her hands and knees, her bony ass sticking in the air.

  “I’mma make you my bitch.” Chris Brown just needed to shut the fuck up.

  “He’s kicked her and now he’s giving her itching powder,” Callum explained to Mack. “He’s really mad about her licking that icing.”

  “Barney, hurry the fuc-, fudge up.”

  I glanced back at the boys who were still gleaming and dancing in their seats – Callum copying Marcia’s tit shake.

  As Marcia got unsteadily to her feet, Barney finally cut off the music. I heaved a massive sigh of relief and blew out my cheeks, thankful the trauma was over.

  “Marcia,” Callum cried. “You’re the winner.”

  “Yes. You were brilliant.” Mack pumped his fist in the air, giving the air horn a couple of toots. “Teach us the dance, pleeeeaaaase.”

  “No!” I cried at the same time as Barney.

  “Yes, go on Marcia, teach us.”

  Callum jumped to his feet and started jumping around licking his finger and wiggling his backside. Mack joined him and did the hip-hop move followed by a perfect slut drop.

  “Oh shit,” I groaned, as Marcia joined the boys dancing around the lounge as they sang ‘It’s not even my birthday, but he wants to lick the icing off’.

  “You know what man?” Barney asked, slapping a big hand against my back. “If you can’t beat ‘em.”

  Barney started rolling his hips and clapping his hand together, even doing a butt bump with Marcia.

  “Oh, fudge it,” I muttered and joined in the dancing and had the best time ever.

  Phoebe

  As harps and bells strummed and tinkled, I gave a huge sigh of contentment and breathed in the aroma of jasmine.

  “Oh my God,” Beth whispered. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so relaxed.”

  “I know. I feel like I’m about to melt all over the bed, I’m so floppy.”

  “You know, if you don’t nab Grantley pretty quickly, I may just do it myself.”

  I lifted my head to glare at my sister, who was sporting a huge grin.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not interested really. You can keep him. Although,” she said wistfully, “if you ever want to loan him out, I’d be up for that. It must be lovely to have a man who cares about you and likes to do nice things for you.”

  My heart clenched as Beth’s smile disappeared. Steven really had been a shit. Not just for leaving her, but for never taking care of her. It h
ad always been Beth looking after his every need, never once had he ever bought her flowers – not even a shitty, half-dead bunch from the garage at the top of the road. I swear he’d only married her because he thought it would get him regular sex without having to put the effort in. Obviously that had changed once the boys arrived, and so Beth had been usurped by Miss Cock Sucker, who evidently gave herself freely to Steven, for the price of a new handbag and matching shoes. Seeing as her social media accounts pretty much boasted of such purchases at least twice a month, Steven was getting everything he’d ever wished for in a partner – someone as twatty and vacuous as he was.

  “Stop thinking about Steven,” Beth hissed. “I don’t give a shit about him, so neither should you.”

  “Did I have that constipated look again?”

  “Yep.”

  “It’s just so unfair, Beth. He’s living the life of a playboy, obnoxious dick, while you’re the one struggling with the boys.”

  “I don’t struggle,” she replied. “My mortgage isn’t much and I earn a good wage.”

  Thankfully, having worked in a bank since leaving school, my sister was incredibly good with money. She’d always saved and contributed to a pension. She knew how to budget and with great foresight had put the mortgage in her name because she got a great deal for working at the bank. She did admit to me after Steven had been gone for a couple of months that in the back of her head, she’d always worried whether he’d get flaky one day, which was why she’d done it.

  “It’s still not fair.”

  “Not everything in life is. But,” she said, pulling herself up on her lounger. “What is fair is that you’ve found Grantley, and I want to be sure you’re not going to let him go.”

  I closed my eyes and pictured Grantley. He wasn’t wearing his sexy, smart Addison Yates’ suit in my mind’s eye, but his worn jeans, a t-shirt, and his sexy black glasses.

  “Phoebe,” Beth hissed. “Are you listening to me?”

  I opened my eyes and turned to her. “What do you want me to say, Beth?” The film finishes shooting in a little over three weeks and then he goes back to LA.”

  Beth sat up and swivelled her legs around to place her feet on the floor.

  “You could visit?”

  “I could, if he’d even asked me.”

  “He hasn’t said anything?” she asked a little nonplussed.

  “Nope, but I don’t expect him to.” I sat up and hugged my knees to my chest. “I knew what this was going to be when we started it.”

  “And what was that, sweetie?”

  “An on set fling.”

  As I said the words, the sadness I felt threatened a storm of tears. I hadn’t had many relationships, but I certainly had never felt the way I did about Grantley. We were good together, in every sense, but more importantly he took me for who I was. He never made me feel less than him, because he was the big star. He didn’t come into my sister’s home and look down on it because it wasn’t some fancy penthouse with its own infinity pool, and he certainly didn’t treat my beloved nephews as a nuisance. Despite everything with his mum and dad, and all the crap he’d had to deal with, he’d wanted to do something special for my sister, because she’d had a bad week.

  “You know it’s so much more than that.”

  I hadn’t noticed Beth join me on my lounger, I’d been so caught up thinking about Grantley.

  “Do I?”

  She nodded and laid a hand on my knee. “Yes, and now you just need to tell him what you want to happen, after the film wraps.”

  “I don’t know what I want,” I protested.

  “Bullshit.”

  I rolled my eyes at Beth. “Okay, I know I want to be with him, but I’m not sure I can do the long distance thing, Beth.”

  “Okay, tell me why?”

  I gave her a look that pretty much said ‘are you stupid?’

  “Well what about the fact that I’ll be worried every day that he’s found someone else, or is cheating on me.”

  “As if,” she scoffed. “I know I hardly know him, but he doesn’t seem the cheating type to me.”

  “They never do. Steven aside.”

  Beth’s eyebrows shot up, almost hitting her hairline.

  “I’m sorry,” I cried. “But I always thought he looked like a cheating knob. I think it was the too shiny shoes. Besides, if you were honest with yourself, you did too.”

  Beth thought about it for a few minutes and then nodded. “Yeah, you’re right,” she replied with a matter of fact tone, “but I just don’t see that in Grantley.”

  We sat in silence for a couple of minutes, Beth picking at a thread of my luxurious velveteen dressing gown and me watching her with great interest, contemplating what she’d said.

  She was right, Grantley didn’t appear to be a cheat. He’d left his home with Serena when he knew the relationship was over, he hated what Sue-Ann’s affair had done to his life, and I couldn’t imagine him putting anyone else through such pain.

  “I think I’m going to tell him I want to do the long distance thing,” I blurted out.

  Beth’s head shot up. “You are?”

  “Only if he promises to tell me it’s over, if he’s even tempted to cheat.”

  Beth’s eyes glistened as her smile widened. “I’m so happy for you.”

  “Well he may not want to. This is me telling him what I want. Grantley may have a totally different idea on what happens in three weeks.”

  “What, like he might want you to move their permanently?” she asked, excitedly.

  “No you numpty,” I cried, shaking my head. “Where do you get these ideas from?”

  As Beth giggled, I couldn’t help but wish, deep down in the hollows of my head, that it might just be a possibility.

  “It’s all very quiet,” Beth said, as we closed the front door behind us.

  “Maybe they’re watching TV.”

  Beth opened the lounge door and stopped dead. “Aww, look,” she whispered.

  I moved up behind her, looked over her shoulder and felt my heart do an excited skip. Barney was asleep in a chair, his head lolled back and mouth open. Marcia, for some strange reason dressed in what looked like the boys’ football kit, was lying on the floor, star-fishing over the rug with her head on a beanbag. But the sight that made my breath quicken, was Grantley. He was lying on the sofa with both boys lying on his chest, his arms protectively wrapped around them, while Mack had one hand in Grantley’s hair and Callum had a finger up Grantley’s nose.

  “Phoebe,” Beth whispered as she turned to me.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, seeing tears welling in her eyes.

  “That’s the first male hug they’ve had, in all their lives.”

  My eyes widened as I looked over at the three men who held my heart. Beth was right. Steven’s parents were both dead, so his dad hadn’t been present in the twins’ lives and as for our dad – well he wasn’t exactly the cuddly grandpa type. The boys were lucky if they got a pat on the head, the three times a year that they saw him, despite living just a thirty minute car ride away.

  “He’s such a good man,” Beth said, grabbing hold of my hand. “Don’t you dare let him go.”

  As I watched them sleeping, Grantley’s arms instinctively went tighter around the boys, and I knew Beth was right. Grantley James was a keeper.

  “Beth,” I whispered.

  “Yes,” she replied, turning to me. “What is it?”

  I gazed over her shoulder and smiled. “I love him.”

  Grantley

  I woke to a warm, soft hand stroking my forehead, and then a gentle kiss to my lips.

  “Hey, wake up,” Phoebe’s voice whispered.

  Slowly opening my eyes, I looked up to see her face gazing down at me. Fuck, she was beautiful. Her face was bare of makeup, her cheeks rosy and clean, and her gorgeous brown eyes had never looked so bright. I lifted a hand and cupped her face.

  Then something hit me.

  “Fuck,” I cried,
scrabbling around. “The boys, they were here, asleep. Where are they?”

  “Ssh,” Phoebe replied. “It’s okay. Beth took them to bed after extracting Callum’s finger from your nose. I’m surprised it didn’t wake you, the little bugger was clinging on in there.”

  “Were they okay?” I asked, pushing up and rubbing at my eyes.

  “Fine. Although, we’re a little concerned what Callum meant when he asked if Marcia could do the birthday cake dance at their birthday party.”

  My eyes widened as my gaze shot across the room – no Marcia or Barney.

  “They’re drinking coffee in the kitchen, with Beth. You’re the only one we couldn’t wake.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  I yawned and stretched my arms, then hooked one around Phoebe’s neck and pulled her closer for a kiss.

  “Hmm you taste like cherries,” I whispered against her mouth.

  “That will be the lip balm gift we were given at the Spa. Beth got orange.” Phoebe grinned.

  “Well I like it. Did you have a lovely, relaxing day?”

  Phoebe tapped a hand against my thigh, urging me to move up and pushed onto the couch beside me.

  “It was perfect. Thank you.”

  As she rested her forehead against mine, and ran a hand through my hair, I felt more contentment than I had ever had in my whole adult life. Nothing could better this moment, not a damn film role, a prestigious award, or even millions of dollars. Being here with Phoebe, tasting like cherries and smelling like wild flowers, was my nirvana.

  “I don’t want to leave you,” I blurted out.

  “W-what?”

  Phoebe looked startled as she pulled back, looking at me with huge wide eyes.

  “I…I…what did you say?”

  I took a breath and threaded my hands through her hair. “I said I don’t want to leave you. I know I have to, but I don’t want to.”

  Phoebe swallowed. “I can’t stand the thought of you going,” she whispered. “It’s going to be awful.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief, glad that we were actually on the same page. I hadn’t planned on telling her how I felt, not yet anyway. I wanted to be sure that was how Phoebe felt too, before I said anything, but as usual, my mouth had engaged before my brain. Having her here, looking radiant and so fucking adorable, it had just come rushing out.