by Alyse Miller
“Of course it is,” Andie said, slightly insulted. “Do you think I dropped everything to get the scoop for TMZ?”
“No, no, I don’t. I’m sorry, but it’s my job to make sure that he is, well, protected.”
“How many times do I have to ask what the hell happened?” Andie was losing her patience and she wanted answers now.
“I don’t know all the details of what went on with you two,” Madeline admitted, picking up her mug again and taking a sip. “But after a text or two in which you indicated that you didn’t want to see Guy anymore, he, well to say the very least, he took it very badly.” Andie thought about correcting her on that point—she had just asked for a break, damn it, to get everything under control—but since Madeline was maybe finally getting to an explanation, she decided to bite her tongue and let her continue. Madeline looked to her, but Andie offered no reaction, visible or verbal.
“He started drinking, heavily, immediately afterward and quickly let his temper and poorer judgment take control. Andie, Guy is extremely talented, as you know. He has the looks, and he has the role that has defined him and helped mature him into, well, into the star he is today. But he has his flaws. He is still young and immature, and the transition has not been easy on him. His life changed very quickly when he became Silas Dove and the sudden money and fame made him more difficult to control.”
“Control?” Andie asked, sarcastically. “Is he supposed to be a trained work dog?”
“I know that may be a poor choice of words, Andie, and I don’t really expect you to completely understand this world, but yes, control is accurate. Besides being charming, handsome, and talented, Guy is impulsive, quick-tempered, and reckless at times. Especially when he drinks. He has never done drugs to my knowledge and certainly not while I’ve been his manager, but it is not always drugs that ruin a career. Reckless, hateful tirades caught on camera, fighting in clubs or on sets, being unprepared for scenes, or just not even showing up ruins careers. There’s a lot of ways to get bad press—and yes, there is such a thing as bad press.”
Andie listened and she knew that Madeline was right. She had seen glimpses into Guy’s dark side herself—his quick to anger temper, flashing eyes. It had given her pause, though those moments paled in comparison to those when he was softer, more tender and affectionate. After a while, the bad boy image would shy away directors and producers, too. Time and money would not be invested in anyone, no matter how good and popular they were, if they were untrustworthy to keep it together and get the job done. Hell, there were half a dozen former celebrities whose names had been scratched from the A-list. Even the fans would become disappointed and fade away, latching on to the next new chiseled jaw and magnetic eyes.
“After a couple of days, Guy still had not started to sober up and pull himself together. He remained angry and belligerent. He reached that very dangerous stage where he believed that his career was untouchable—either that or he simply didn’t care anymore. Neither is never true, Andie. I tried to talk to him, but it was pointless. After two days of scenes being canceled because he was either too late and the studio time had run out, or he was drunk and unprepared, the director had begun to reach his limit. The truth is Guy’s behavior does affect a lot of people and their jobs and paychecks as well, but he didn’t care. We tried to cover it up, play up the angle that he was partying with his co-star, but then he showed up drunk again, yelling at the director, daring him to find another ‘Silas Dove’ because he didn’t give a damn and was sick of the part. He strutted around like a toddler having a tantrum and kicked over two camera sets. The director intervened, first just trying to restrain him, but Guy cold-cocked him and the fight ensued. My people were able to stop it as quickly as they could, but Guy fell and hit his head fairly hard. He has a mild concussion and, of course, his blood alcohol was extremely high—almost to the point of alcohol poisoning. The doctor suggested he stay for a day or two for observation and to, well, dry out a little.”
Madeleine paused and Andie busied her shaking hands by picking up her coffee. Somehow, she didn’t feel very surprised by what Madeline had said. Guy was pretty transparent and his quick disgust of his status quo was obvious. But, she also knew more than Madeline. Guy’s acting out was not just about her pushing away from him. He was already losing himself and on the verge of catastrophe when she met him. He had come to the university searching for something, though she still didn’t know what. It wasn’t her; she’d just been something he found along the way. No, it was something else. Maybe she’d pushed him over the edge. People would probably say that, and Madeline might even think it now and blame her. But Andie was a firm believer in taking responsibility for one’s own actions. Whatever Guy brought on himself was his choice.
“I hope you haven’t asked me to come here and tell him I’m sorry and it’s all my fault. Because if you have, then you have wasted both of our times, and you are going to be disappointed.”
“Actually, that wasn’t the reason. I asked you to come here because I think you honestly care for him, and clearly, he cares about you. Perhaps I was wrong about you, I don’t really know, but what I told you in Denver was true. Yes, people rely on Guy to pay their bills; yes, I count on income from his success as well. You can turn your nose up at that, but it’s business. You don’t know me that well either, Dr. Foxglove. I care about Guy, too. I’ve seen him struggle and fight, and land in the spotlight. I’ve spent a lot of time with Guy, not Silas Dove, and I know him to be extraordinarily kind in both his time and resources. I also know he loves what he does, no matter how he feels this second. When he is in front of that camera, you can see the fire that lights up in him. He glows.” Andie noticed Madeline’s eyes shining like glass. She looked up at Andie and there was no business in her eyes, no catch. There was a flesh and blood woman in there after all. “I don’t want to see that fire burn out, Andie. He needs help. I asked you to come here and see him. I think of all people, you are the one who can reach him.”
“Does he still have a job?” Andie asked. She knew he might ask her, and she wanted to be able to tell him the whole truth.
“Yes…but it is tenuous. Very. He will be asked to pay for all the damage, naturally. I’m sure the director will request an apology. I think the incident has been contained, so he won’t be hurt publicly. If it leaks, well, as long as he continues being Silas Dove, the gossip and rumor mills will embrace his dark side, disappear fast, and move on. But, I absolutely guarantee, the director, producer, and pretty much everyone else involved is at their end. I know from my sources they are scouting out new possibilities. I expected that. He can save his career, Andie, but he has to do it now.”
“I understand,” Andie said quietly. “And I think I have an idea.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Andie stirred in her chair. Rubbing the aching spot of her neck that had been laying over on her shoulder for too long, she opened her eyes to find Guy’s steely blue eyes staring back her. She pulled her chair to the side of the bed and gazed back into the face that always melted her insides and made her catch her breath. The bruises and scratches didn’t change the effect Guy had on her. Even pillow hair suited him as that one lock still fell characteristically across his forehead.
“Hi.” Before she had fallen asleep, Andie had tried to formulate her approach to this conversation that was about to happen—tried to plan for it, if that were possible. After playing several different scenarios that ranged from lecturing to mothering to sympathizing, she couldn’t decide on any good one and fell asleep, apparently while trying to come up with the next plan. She still had nothing.
“Hi,” he answered back after a minute or two of quiet had passed. He looked away, grimacing a little as he shifted uncomfortably in bed.
“Are you in pain? Do you want me to get your nurse? Andie asked, concerned.
“I’m good.”
“Yeah, you look like a million bucks.”
He looked out of her from the sides of her eyes and sm
irked a little. “What are you doing here?”
“I had a craving for a real Brooklyn thin cheese slice. Heard you were in the neighborhood, sort of.” She slid her hand under his, and he let her. She gave it an ever so slight squeeze. “Madeline called me.” It was almost a whisper.
Guy grunted and shook his head. “Well, she shouldn’t have done that, and you didn’t need to come here.” He pulled his hand away and crossed his arms across his chest. Andie knew he was probably embarrassed—his ego was bruised right along with the rest of him—but that was the least of his problems, and she needed him to get over those little things—and quickly, so they could move on the heart of the matter, namely his career and future.
“If I thought I had to come here, I wouldn’t have. The Mad Man is not my manager.”
“Then why are you here? This isn’t really space now is it?” His words stung. He was still being sullen, but all Andie felt was pity. She knew it was his hurt talking, not the real Guy.
“Guy.” She reached across and put her hand lightly on his folded arm. “I came here because I care about you. I don’t care about the cameras, or the paparazzi, or the tabloid headlines. I care about you. If people don’t have their own lives and want to be wrapped up in mine…or ours,” he looked at her when she said that, “then…whatever.”
“It gets so old, Andie.” He was softening now. “I know I wanted this, and a hundred people would trade places with me right now and a thousand more are trying to get here….” The words trailed off.
“Where? In the hospital, with a mild concussion? I don’t really think so, Guy.”
He laughed. That deep, throaty laugh that made her all warm and tingly on the inside. When he laughed and smiled, his eyes lit up, and his perfectly carved mouth revealed his straight teeth, and she just wanted to touch those lips with hers and feel him, taste him.
“You know what I mean.” Finally, he placed his hand on top of hers.
“I do. Really, I haven’t lived it, but I do understand, Guy. I’m sorry I didn’t before. What do you want, Guy—really want?”
He sighed and closed his eyes. “I want it all. I want to be in front of the camera doing what I feel I was born to do, and then I want to clock out at the end of the day like everyone else does and go home. Take my wife and kids to the park or a movie. Walk my dog around the neighborhood. Maybe teach a class or two and help people who want to make it and do what I do. I can’t just take—I have to give back, too.”
Like a thunderbolt, it hit Andie: that’s why Guy had been at the university. It all made sense now. He was from Alaska so Colorado would seem a little like home with its snow and mountains. He wanted to talk to someone about teaching, and her classroom was right next to the drama department. “That’s why you were at my university.”
“Yes and no. The truth is, I’ve never been to college. I skipped town for Hollywood right after high school. I tried some classes, but between auditions, waiting tables, driving cabs, doing every spare job I could get to survive, I just didn’t have the time. I’ve loved Colorado ever since I first stepped foot in it. The mountains remind me of home and I take off to ski and hike there as much as I can. I thought maybe while I was there, in between seasons of the show or whatever is next, I could take some classes and maybe mentor some students.”
“That would be hard because of you are.” Andie tested the waters carefully with a bit of logic. “All of a sudden, every college girl on campus would want to be a drama student.”
“Yeah, that’s what Madeline said. But is that a reason not to try? That’s why I was there. I just wanted to talk to someone and see if somehow it could work. Maybe it would help me find normal.”
“If you like, I can talk to my dean. I can at least get an idea for you; see if it’s a possibility. You are certainly entitled to your education, and the fact that you would be willing to mentor is really very generous. It’s a logistical problem because of who you are, but I don’t see why arrangements to manage it could not be handled.”
He was quiet. “I’m sure a donation wouldn’t hurt either.”
“Now stop. That’s not fair. You need to stop expecting that someone wants something from you. There are people who just care about you for you.”
Guy looked at her. She couldn’t help thinking that the man who had been so strong and confident, now looked smaller and vulnerable. “And when you find those people, Guy, don’t push them away expecting the worst.”
“Did I push you away?”
“No, you didn’t.” Andie shook her head. “Worse. I pushed you away because I got scared and frustrated.” She looked deeply into his eyes and placed her hand on the side of his face. “But I never meant that I didn’t want to see you again. I didn’t.”
He took her hand in his and kissed it, and then pulled her, guiding her slowly from the chair and onto the bed beside him. She let him and lay beside him, trying to make her body as light and unobtrusive as possible so as not to disturb the chords and tubes attached to his body. She placed her head on his shoulder and her arm across his tight, sculpted stomach. “I missed you,” she said quietly.
“I missed you more,” he whispered back and pulled her closer to kiss the top her head. They lay quietly holding on to each other. A warmth passed between them. The feeling of being together, touching, holding, just felt right. Andie wished she never had to move and she could stay in his arms forever, just feeling his breath on the top of her head, feeling him softly stroke her long hair.
“I think I…maybe I…well, I might love you,” she said, breaking quiet between them.
“Alessandra?” he replied.
“Yes?”
“Don’t give up teaching and write for Hallmark.”
She laughed and playfully poked him in the side, carefully in case he had any broken ribs or anything like that. He laced his free arm around her pulled her tight against him as best he could in the small hospital bed. She raised her head and they looked at each other, then shared a tender kiss. When it ended, Guy stroked the side of her face, “I think, maybe, I might, possibly love you too.”
The nurse came in with breakfast and interrupted them. Andie got up and moved back to her chair.
“Good morning, Mr. Wilder,” she said pleasantly, eyeballing Andie. “How are you feeling this morning?’
“Not too bad. Getting better by the minute.” He winked at Andie.
“What about your pain level?”
“It’s tolerable, really. I deserve a good headache.”
“All right then, let me know if immediately if anything changes or your pain worsens.”
“I will. Thank you.”
She checked his vitals, set his tray of food on the other side of the bed from Andie, and left without another word. He lifted the lid off the food and frowned. He set it back down, but grabbed his apple juice.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Me? No, I’m good thanks.” Hospital food, even in New York, wasn’t exactly a delicacy.
He nodded and drank some juice.
Andie shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Guy, there is something we need to talk about.”
“Those pictures of me with Ginifer.”
“Actually no, I don’t care about those.”
He looked at her quizzically, obviously surprised. “You don’t?”
“No, I’m a big girl, Guy. I’m not in middle school. We need to talk about why you are here in the hospital.”
“It’s nothing. A misunderstanding.” He waved it off nonchalantly.
“No, Guy, it’s not. And you have to know that.”
“I have to know what?”
“You have to know that you are not untouchable. You can lose everything you have and dreamed about becoming.”
“Are you my manager now, Andie? Because unless I really do have some memory loss, I already have one.”
Andie shook her head. “This is what I’m talking about. Your quick temper and refusal to listen is going to ruin everythi
ng for you. In some ways, you are that normal person, Guy. You do have a job with expectations of performance. You do have a boss who can demand things of you, and one of them quite frankly is showing up to work sober and ready to work.”
His eyes grew fierce and she knew that he was fighting back words that would probably be both hurtful and regretful. She gave him a minute to calm down.
“Do I still have my job?” he finally asked quietly, not looking at her.
Breathing a sigh of relief that she had anticipated this, Andie said, “Yes, you do. You have another chance, and you need to take it.”
“Maybe I don’t want it,” he said sullenly.
Andie took his hand. He tried to resist this time, but she held on firmly. “Guy, look at me.” She waited until their eyes met. “You do want it. You just need to find balance. That’s why you came to Boulder. You found me, but you weren’t looking for me. I can’t replace what you came looking for. I can help you and can stand with you, but I can’t fix what’s missing for you. But,” She bit her lip, hoping that he wouldn’t react like she feared. “I do have an opportunity to do a little part of what you want. Make things a little better and help you turn over a new leaf that’s more true to yourself.”
He looked at her, waiting.
“You could be our keynote speaker at the literacy gala.”
Guy ripped his hand away from hers immediately and laughed sharply. “Sure, why not? I get it now. I bet Silas Dove at your gala would be just the right feather in your cap.”
Andie snapped up, eyes blazing. “Why do you insist upon doing that, Guy Wilder? You go from zero to a hundred in milliseconds, and you always assume the worst in people. The fact is that, yes, you can do some good with your celebrity status and help raise money for those trying to learn to read. Why is that a bad thing? It’ll certainly help erase the crap they’re saying about you in the tabloids. Or, maybe you prefer it that way, and you can use your celebrity status to be a total jerk and cost people their jobs, break equipment, and get in fights. You said you wanted to help mentor people to get where you are?” He snorted derisively at her, and she let the words rage out of her, her voice rising another note. “Take a real good look at where you are right now, Guy Wilder. Look around! Bruised, bandaged, and in a hospital bed because you can’t control yourself and have to act out like a four-year-old when you don’t get your way. You want to lead the way like this?”