Cash (Hawthorne Brothers Romance)

by M. L. Young

  “Wow, that’s quite the plot twist,” Charlie said.

  I moved my leg up and down impatiently as I looked around and wondered if she was coming back. I wasn’t mad that she didn’t want to go out or get to know me, but I was a little peeved that she wouldn’t do either of those things because I was an actor, and not because of who I was underneath.

  I watched her go to the drink station and got up, telling Charlie to stay put. As I walked over towards her I saw smartphones being taken out and people snapping pictures.

  “Did you need something?” she asked as I approached while she was scooping ice into a cup.

  “What was that back there?” I asked.

  “What?” she asked, a puzzled look on her face.

  “You won’t go out with me or get to know me because I’m an actor?” I asked.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” she said.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because I’m not some gold-digging Hollyweird bimbo. If you were thinking because you’re some big star that I’d get naked and lie on your bed tonight, you had the wrong idea, buddy,” she said.

  “I’m not like that, you know,” I said.

  “Oh yeah, you’re different, right?” she asked.

  “Yeah, actually, I am. I might act, and people might know my name and take pictures of me like they are right now, but I’m not self-absorbed. I’m a nice person who has good morals and values and is looking for an actual person to spend my life with, and it hurts that you’d totally reject even getting to know me because of what I do for a living. You should get to know a person based on the content of their character, and not on how they make their paycheck. I guess I thought it would be different, but you’re just like everybody else in the end,” I said before walking back towards my table.

  “What happened?” Charlie asked.

  “Nothing. Nothing happened,” I said.

  A few minutes passed before Jenna came back with the check, before we even asked for it. I guess my little speech pissed her off and signaled our time to leave. She didn’t say a word, instead just dropping it on the edge of the table before going to check on another table.

  I opened it up, put my card inside, and set it on the edge before she picked it up and came back moments later.

  I slipped out my card and put it back into my wallet before opening the booklet and seeing the receipts inside. Inside was a note on a torn piece of white paper with a phone number on it, presumably hers, and some scribbled writing that said not to make her regret this. I smiled a little and filled out the check before taking the scrap of paper out and hiding it securely within the confines of my leather wallet. Maybe I was wrong about her, just like she was about me.

  Charlie and I left, a media circus waiting outside, as we got into my car and drove off while the flashing lights dissipated and the blindness they caused soon vanished.

  We pulled into Charlie’s garage, the door shutting behind us. His street was quiet and crickets chirped all around.

  I felt good.

  Chapter Six

  Jenna

  Three days had passed and I’d heard nothing from Cash. I’d looked him up online, his Wikipedia page, and tried to learn at least a little about him—mostly to find out if he was who he said he was. You could never be too careful these days, and even though people treated him like a celebrity, I wanted to know just how far his reach was.

  I didn’t care about it, at least not like others, like Malia, who freaked out when she found out whom I’d given my number to. I was regretting it, given the fact that he hadn’t even given me the time of day since the other night, but I digress. Not every guy you give your number to is going to call or text or ask you out, but all it takes is that one, so I suppose I was just going to have to keep waiting for him to ring me up.

  I stretched back in my seat, the hard plastic bottom not conforming well to my butt, as I sat in class while we watched some video about business procedures and practices in the office. It was one of those outdated, decade-old scripted videos that made you cringe in your seat and wish you were anywhere but there watching it.

  The classroom was dark enough that I could see the screen of my phone light up inside my bag. I was intrigued, so I slyly pulled it out. Others around me were already on theirs. I turned down the brightness as I held it against my thigh so my professor wouldn’t notice. I pulled it back up, seeing a text from a number I didn’t know, and unlocked my phone to see what it was.

  “Hi Jenna, this is Cash. I know it’s been a few days, but I’ve been very busy on set. I hope you’re not mad,” he said.

  I perked up a little, a small smile on my face, before I typed back that everything was fine and I was happy to hear from him. What a typical, stereotypical girl I was just now. Here I was, talking about how I was moving on and didn’t care anymore, and the second he gave me attention I was like a schoolgirl talking to the lead singer of her favorite boy band. I guess I wasn’t as different as I thought I was.

  “I was wondering if you wanted to get together tonight. Maybe we could get drinks, or even dinner?” he said.

  I hesitated for a second, wondering what to say, before I told him dinner would be fine, but I’d need a ride. My car was starting to squeak and squeal a little, I thought the belt was going dry. I didn’t really want to show up to dinner with a movie star in that. He probably wouldn’t care all that much, but I’d be damn embarrassed, especially if cameras were there.

  “That’s absolutely fine. Text me your address or where to pick you up and I’ll see you around eight,” he said.

  Did I really have a date? It still amazed me to this day, in my twenties, that life could change in a single instant by one simple gesture. Now I just needed something to wear.

  •••

  “Wait, he’s coming here?” Malia asked.

  “Yeah, I think so. I told him to get me here. I didn’t want to look stupid waiting at a park or something. Besides, he’s a movie star, not a creeper. Not like he’s going to pull me into his windowless van or something,” I said.

  “So he’s coming here?” she asked.

  “Yes…” I replied, annoyed.

  “What do I wear? What do I do? Should I make snacks? Drinks? Oh, God, this is all so much!” she exclaimed.

  “Malia, calm down, you’re not going out with him. He probably won’t even come to the door,” I said.

  “But what if he does? I can’t just not say hi, Jenna. I have to introduce myself!” she said, running to her room.

  This was partially the reason I didn’t want to go out with Cash in the first place. People were just, I don’t know, different around people like him. It wasn’t like some guy from RandomMeetX coming over and picking me up. Malia wouldn’t even care about a guy like that. She might say hi, but she definitely wouldn’t go out of her way to do it. With Cash, though, she acted like Christ himself was going to materialize in our living room tonight. It couldn’t be normal, and I liked normal, even if I was a tad abnormal.

  I had a few hours to get ready and find something to wear once I got home, which wasn’t as much time as it sounded like. I had to pick out clothes, shower, shave, wash my hair, dry my hair, put on makeup, pluck this, wax out that, and make sure I looked good. I didn’t care as much about his job, but I wasn’t about to be seen in public with somebody famous while looking like his homeless sister or something.

  I picked out a black dress, strapless, that was somewhat tight but not going out to the club tight. It went close to my knees, though not quite. I wore a silver necklace and bracelet, as well as a slim black clutch. My hair, with loose curls, was all to the right side and my eyes were slightly smoky, barbeque style as I joked with Malia, and my lips red.

  “Damn, you look hot,” Malia said as I presented myself.

  I looked up at the wall clock. It was almost eight. I looked at my phone to see that there was nothing from Cash. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but if I were expecting anything, I wasn’t finding it.


  Suddenly, I noticed headlights flashing through the blinds before they abruptly turned off.

  “Him?” Malia asked.

  “The engine sounded loud,” I said, walking over to the door. There was a knock just as I approached.

  I opened it to see Cash, dressed in a suit, standing there with a bouquet of roses. He looked nice, handsome, and his smile made me nervous.

  “I got these for you,” he said, handing them to me.

  “Thank you, please come in. This is my roommate, Malia,” I said, closing the door behind him. “I’ll go get these some water.”

  “Very nice to meet you,” Cash said.

  “N-nice to meet you too, Mr. Hawthorne,” she said in the most awkward way.

  “Please, call me Cash,” he said with a chuckle, as if he were embarrassed. “Mr. Hawthorne is my father.”

  “Where are you guys going tonight?” Malia asked.

  “Oh, I have a little Asian fusion in mind. I made reservations, so we should get going,” he said.

  “Let me just get my coat,” I said, picking it up and slipping it on.

  “Text me if you need me,” Malia said as she watched us walk out.

  I turned around before walking out, Cash in front of me, and she smiled and gave me a thumbs up before I closed the door. Cash’s car, some Italian sports car, or supercar, rather, sat in the spot next to my car. It definitely didn’t make mine look good, that was for sure.

  “Ever ridden in one of these?” he asked as he unlocked it.

  “Never,” I said before sliding inside.

  The seats were low to the ground, like you were sitting on the ground itself. The soft leather seats wrapped around my body, brushing against my freshly shaven legs, hugging me close. I said before that this kind of stuff didn’t matter to me, and it didn’t, but it was nice once I’d actually sat down inside it. Definitely better than him showing up in an old station wagon.

  I knew my neighbors were watching as he revved the engine and we peeled out of the parking lot. My cheeks were a little warm, probably even red, as I looked out my window and hoped they didn’t know it was me. Then again, maybe I did want them to know. I was out with a movie star, after all!

  “Did you have a good day?” he asked right before we pulled into traffic.

  “It went well—nothing too strenuous, but I did some solid homework earlier. How about you?” I asked.

  “It was long, that’s for sure. I had to be on set today, but we got out a little bit early. That’s also why I planned tonight. A shorter day on set just made it easier to go out,” he said.

  “Do you work a lot?” I asked.

  “Yeah, only when I’m actively filming a movie or doing press for it. Between projects I basically get to do whatever I want, for the most part. Sometimes I’ll meet with companies or go on a talk show, but that’s something special and not the norm,” he said.

  “So you probably don’t have a lot of time to date, then,” I said, probing him. I still was a little unsure deep down about what I wanted to happen with him, and I needed to know what he wanted or could do before I started to like him.

  “Eh, not usually. Well, I should rephrase that a little. It’s not that I don’t have the time to date, but I just haven’t found a person to give that small amount of time to. Like I said, when I’m not filming I can devote a lot of time to that woman, but it’s hard to find someone who’s understanding and knows that when I’m filming, it’s hectic,” he said.

  “I hear you. I think that people, whether they’re lovers or just friends, probably don’t understand just how busy you get and they get upset when you don’t answer their texts within five minutes,” I said.

  “Exactly! Even my mom can get like that sometimes. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to her, I do, but I have other obligations. It’s no different than if I were a doctor with patients or in surgery or something. I can’t just drop everything to text her what brand of socks I want for my birthday,” he said with a cheeky smile.

  “Socks, huh? Maybe that’s what I’ll call you from now on,” I said, laughing.

  “Already to pet names? Man, I must be good,” he said.

  “Hey now, it’s not a pet name, it’s just a, well, a funny name,” I said, trying to save face.

  We soon pulled up to the restaurant. Cash drove up to the valet and I spotted some people with cell phones out, likely to get pictures of the car. I’d seen people do that a few times before, especially at my restaurant. Tourists seemed to get a kick out of seeing cars more expensive than their homes.

  I heard some chatter as Cash and I got out of the car, and people started to flock to him like sheep to a shepherd. He held onto me, or maybe me to him, as he politely said we had reservations we had to get to. Everybody was really nice about it, letting us leave and go inside the restaurant.

  “Is it always like that?” I asked.

  “Yeah, pretty much. Sometimes I wonder if I made the right decision,” he said.

  “What do you—”

  “Mr. Hawthorne!” an older man from behind the podium exclaimed.

  “Leon, my man, how are you?” Cash asked, shaking the man’s hand.

  “I’m doing just wonderful, thank you! Always asking how other people are doing, I tell you this kid is going places with politeness like that. You know that most of the famous people I’ve met don’t care at all? Not you, though, not Cash Hawthorne! Anyway, I’m just a rambling old man now. Your table is waiting, if you’d like to be seated,” Leon said, grabbing two menus and guiding us towards the back.

  Sitting notable people in the back was a tactic we used at my restaurant, though it didn’t always work. It was for privacy, to keep them out of the public eye, but the glaring problem was that said person or people had to walk through the flames of the common dining room to get to the back. Maybe they should have to wear those little funny disguises with the big nose, mustache, and black glasses. That was an idea.

  “Your server will be with you shortly. If you need anything, don’t hesitate,” Leon said before walking away.

  “He’s always so great,” Cash said, smiling.

  “Do you know him personally?” I asked.

  “No, but he owns a few restaurants I like to go to. He treats me well,” he said, opening the menu.

  I wanted to ask him what I was going to ask when we walked in before Leon interrupted us—why he wondered if he’d made the right decision—but I wasn’t sure it was my place anymore. Things were going well so far, but was it really my business to ask? After all, it was our first date, and it wasn’t like I was all that nice to him the other night when I was working.

  “Hello, my name is Eron, and I’ll be your server tonight. We have a marvelous selection of wines, beer, and sake if you’d like to see a list,” Eron said.

  “Do you like wine?” Cash asked.

  “Yeah, white wine,” I said.

  “We’ll just take a bottle of your best white wine, whatever it is,” Cash said.

  “Certainly, I will inform Leon and bottle service right away. May I put in an order for an appetizer?” Eron asked.

  “I see the sampler on here, so we’ll start with that, thank you,” Cash said.

  “I’ll get that in right away,” Eron said, walking away.

  “Big spender,” I said.

  “Have to impress you, don’t I? How will I get a second date if I don’t?” he asked.

  “Already looking for a second?” I asked.

  “With that smile and those eyes, how could I not want one?” he asked.

  I didn’t say anything in return, instead giving a small smile before looking back down at my menu and searching for something to eat. He was a smooth talker, that was for sure, but I couldn’t allow myself to fall for that so easily. I was guarded, and I was that way for a reason. I couldn’t let him crack the combination to a safe that had been sealed shut for a while. It all stemmed back to my father, and the way he just kind of left. It’s not to say that things with
my mother were perfect, but they certainly could’ve been fixed, right? He told me he did it for his good and mine, and that he loved me so much, but talk is cheap, and things only got worse once he married that bimbo.

  Eron came back with the appetizer and another server, a woman, came with a cart that held the wine, glasses, and a bucket of ice. She uncorked the wine, letting Cash take a sip from his glass before he gave it the okay and she poured us some.

  “Honestly, I always say it’s okay, because I don’t know what I’m doing,” he said, leaning in and whispering after she’d left.

  “Me either! I’m the same way when I get my oil changed. They show me the stick with some oil on it like I’m supposed to know what it means. It could just have coffee on it and I’d still give the thumbs up!” I said, laughing.

  He started laughing, his cheeks turning red, before we each took some food from the butcher’s block serving plate and dug in. There was something about Cash, something mysterious, that seemed to come out the more I tried to remind myself I was unsure of my feelings. It was like he somehow knew and instead broke through the wall that had just been set in concrete. I hadn’t met another guy who could do that so easily. Usually by this point in a date I was annoyed or bored, but I couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say next. What was happening to me?

  There wasn’t a dull moment the rest of the date, with us talking about my schoolwork, his set work, and a little bit of everything in between. There was a candle between us, the dim light barely glowing on his face as the lights overhead barely illuminated the room. There was background noise, but it didn’t faze me, as I only listened for his words, not anyone else’s around me. He wasn’t what I thought he’d be, and I was scared.

  “It’s getting late,” he said after a few hours had flown by.

  “That’s too bad,” I said.

  “Why’s that?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure I’m ready for the night to end,” I said.

  “We could go somewhere,” he said.