Debt Collector

by Weston Parker

  “You know, I’ve always wanted to understand better who they were.” She ignored my come-on and turned, tilting her head to the side a little. She really was stunning in her own way. Darren, or whatever his name was, had to be a complete idiot to let a woman like Deza out of his life.

  “Oh, you know, they are the naysayers. They are the counsel of the high and mighty. They are the definers of all things far and wide.” I lifted my hands and walked around the room as if trapped in a Shakespearian monologue.

  “Why did I ask you? Jeez.” She turned and shook her head as I chuckled.

  “Really? I thought that was pretty good acting. No?” She ignored me, so I continued. “They would have liked it.”

  “Yes, they would.”

  I hated to change the subject, and it wasn’t a smooth transition by any means, but I needed the answer to the burning question inside of me. "How has Riley been?"

  "Good. She's juggling a lot, but she's doing it well."

  "I'm not surprised." I hadn't spoken to her for the last five days, which was a relief and a bit depressing altogether.

  "You're supposed to be mentoring her. Maybe if you could stop thinking with your little head and start thinking with your big one." She chuckled.

  I snorted and turned. "Wait a minute. You want me to start thinking with my cock now? Have I gotten this backward my whole life? Shit. That would be so much easier. Whew. Glad we got that out of the way."

  "You're not going to behave today, are you?" She leaned over, grabbed the streamers and tossed them back to me.

  "Not a snowball’s chance in hell. I feel like I'm on my man-period. It's liable to get ugly up in here." I rolled my shoulders and lifted the package toward her. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with this? You know people don't use streamers unless they're celebrating a small child's birthday."

  "You're acting like a small child. Get over yourself and help me, or go find something better to do."

  "Like jack-off in the bathroom?" I walked toward the table and laughed as Frank stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips.

  "Why do I feel like this isn't a one-time conversation between the two of you?" He shook his head and walked into the room.

  "Because, Frank, what you guys don't know is that my agent has been sexually harassing me for years. No matter what we talk about, it always goes back to my dick. She should be fired." I turned to enjoy the look on Deza's face.

  Frank patted my back. "I think you're stuck with her, my friend. Besides, no one else would put up with you, your groupies, or your dick for too long."

  "Groupies?" I tossed the streamers to him. "Here, help a sister out and put these up."

  "You're useless. You know that?" Deza moved past me and popped me in the stomach. "While you are here-"

  "Nope. I'm useless, remember?" I dropped down in the chair closest to me and pulled up my phone, scrolling through it until I found the picture of Riley I'd pulled out of my phone's recycling bin like a true addict. She had me by the throat and the balls, and the saddest part was that she didn't know it. Nor would she ever.

  I was grateful that it was a picture on my phone that I had and not a printed photograph. The damn thing would be bent and worn out with torn corners, lip marks on her face and the remnants of jizz smeared on the front of it. The very thought of it had a laugh rumbling through my chest where disgust should have been. I was sick, but I was comfortable just being me.

  Riley was the center of my desire, and I had little filter to not give into the naughtiest of thoughts when I was alone with her. Well, her picture.

  "Are you ever going to come clean on what the fuck happened with you guys the night before she signed?" Frank walked over and dropped a bag of balloons in my lap. "Blow on these."

  "Sexual harassment." I tore the bag open and dumped them out beside me. "I'm worth a billion dollars and you guys have me blowing up balloons. What if I inhale too hard and suck one of these fuckers down my throat."

  "I'll take the pictures on my phone." Deza glanced up and smiled toward Frank. “You get them on YouTube?”

  "Yep, and I'll give him mouth to mouth. He's been looking for a reason to snuggle up to me for years. This could be his big break." Frank wagged his eyebrows at me, getting me back good for the first time in a long time.

  "Fuck you both very much." I turned and worked on blowing up a balloon as my thoughts turned back to the sexy librarian-type that would be playing co-star with me in our next film. She'd been given a golden ticket to come live the life that only the bright lights of Hollywood could offer, and I needed to warn her about so many things. Me being one of them.

  Having been an actor since I was old enough to talk, I was numbed to the fame and adoration. It was only skin deep or as far as the wad of cash in my pocket would take me anyway. Riley was new to my world though, and as I'd seen many of my cohorts fall face first before the idol of fame, I felt it my duty to warn her. Funny enough, she just didn't seem like the type that would beckon to the siren's call.

  "Hey... spill, Mister. Frank ran to get us some coffee." Deza sat down beside me and ran her hand over the top of my back.

  I lifted my leg and shook it like a dog might. "That feels good. Scratch my belly and move lower?"

  "Gross." She popped me and sat back. "Spill, Ethan. I know you've been struggling with something since she signed the papers. What happened?"

  "I already told you, D. Shit. The story doesn't change. She came over for a conversation, I did as you asked and played gentleman. It sucked to not let her see the real me, but obviously they prefer the mask." I put another balloon to my lips, blowing hard.

  "I don't believe you." She reached out and gripped the balloon, pulling it hard. My hard work deflated before me, and I picked up another and pulled it tight between my fingers before releasing it and laughing as she squealed.

  "Look, she wanted something to happen between us, and I sure as fuck did too." I shrugged. "But, you were right. I need to respect her as my co-worker and not give in to the animalistic urge I have to see how far I can press my-"

  "Okay." Deza stood up and lifted her hands. "Save it for the screen. I don't want to hear anything else about the shit running laps in your head."

  "Just the stuff about you?" I reached out and gripped her hand.

  She turned and looked down at me. "Don't hurt her, okay? She's new to all of this, and you don’t know her story at all. Rise above your horniness and help a sister out."

  "You or her?" I lifted my eyebrow in genuine confusion. I didn’t know her story. Hell, I didn’t know Deza’s it would seem. At twenty-four I was still operating off of a ‘me-only’ persona. Something inside of me shifted, and I couldn’t tell if it were for the better or not.

  "Her, you nugget-head." She tugged her hand from mine and popped me in the head. "And don't be telling no one that she tried to kiss you. Lies only hurt the liar."

  "What? That's a fucking lie." I chuckled and rubbed my hands over my chest. "She did try to kiss me, and you'd be proud to know that I carefully turned her down."

  "Are you serious?" Deza put her hands on her hips and scowled. She was a small fry, a good head and a half shorter than me, and yet she had the ability to make me wiggle in my seat. She was my mother, my sister, and my best friend most days. Seeing that I didn't have any of those things in my life, she was keeping up quite well.

  "Yes." I shrugged and stood up, not liking the way she hovered above me. "She said she was just testing me with the kiss thing. I guess she wanted to make sure I wasn't the total cock everyone believes me to be."

  "You're not a cock, and no one believes that you are but you." Frank walked back into the room and rolled his eyes. "People are just personifying James Bond onto you."

  "Testing you?" Deza seemed to ignore Frank's comment.

  I didn't mind so much if people's perception came directly from my on-screen roles, but that wasn't the case at all. I'd been a cock in public in my late teen years, and it'd been a hard pull to get
back on track... while faking it.

  "Yep." I walked toward the door. "I'm going to get something to drink. I'll be back when the party starts."

  "Don't be late." Frank glanced over his shoulder as Deza walked toward me.

  "I'll walk you to the elevator." She moved past me into the hall, surprising me a little.

  "I'm a big boy now. I even put on my own undies today, the right side out." I wagged my eyebrows at her. "Wanna see?"

  "No, pain in my ass, I don't." She slipped her arm into mine and glanced up at me. "I don't think that Riley was testing you for a minute. She's a very straightforward girl, and if she wants to know something, I believe she would just ask."

  "Then what do you think she was up to? Trying to sexually harass me in my weakened state?" I pressed the back of my fingers to my head as we stopped by the elevator.

  "I swear you're bi-polar."

  "Tri... but what's new."

  "She has feelings for you." Deza shrugged as if her words didn't mean much.

  "Already? Impossible. She doesn't even know me." I reached out and pressed the button on the wall in front of me as I let out a yawn.

  "Of course she knows you, Ethan. She's been watching you grow up on screen for the last ten years. We all know you, or think we do." She patted my back as I walked into the elevator and turned around to face her.

  "Right... You guys know Ethan Lewis, the actor, but you don't know me."

  "I do, sugar cakes."

  "This is true, and you're still around. Sounds like you need a raise." I gave her a weak smile as the door closed and carried me down to the first floor of the production studio.

  We were hosting a large press conference that evening to make the announcement of who would be joining me on Down Low and then moving into a dinner and dance event for the crew. We were packing up and leaving for Rio the next week, and tonight was the night to try and gel a little as a team and have some fun doing it.

  "Hey you." I looked up to see Nancy walking toward me. She took good care of making sure I looked the part no matter what she had going on. As my make-up artist, she'd seen me through some rough fucking mornings and helped me to disguise my pain through some less-than-stellar life choices.

  "Hi, Nancy. You wanna come make me look pretty before this thing starts?" I gave her an award-winning smile and wrapped an arm around her frail shoulders. She could have been my grandmother and I would have been better off for it. At least I'd have some family besides my brother Liam.

  "You bet, handsome." She glanced up at me as I pulled from her and opened the door, holding it to let her go through. "Your dark circles are getting worse. Are you using the cucumbers on your eyes?"

  "Nope. I use them for other pleasures." I winked and offered her my arm.

  "Dear God, please tell me that you just ate them."

  "Something like that, yeah." I nodded toward my trailer. "We going in there for this rendezvous or do you need light?"

  She chuckled. "Go get dressed and meet me in your dressing room. Your trailer has an odd vibe to it."

  "Wait, what? Like what kind of vibe?" I crossed my arms over my chest and gave her a look my mother would be proud of if the old bitch paid any attention to me.

  "Just a vibe." She shrugged. "Forget I said anything.”

  "Oh, hell no." I moved toward her and gripped her shoulders lightly. "Is it at least a good vibe?"

  "Yeah, of course." She adverted her eyes.

  "Liar. What's the vibe in there?" I glanced back and tilted my head, trying to think if she meant smell instead of vibe. It always seemed fresh and clean to me, but maybe she was one of those clean-freak people.

  "It's dark and the place is bare, Ethan."

  I turned and released her. "It's a temporary place to live while we're shooting."

  "You've had that trailer for three years. It's not temporary." She reached up and brushed her fingers over the soft skin below my eyes. "Have you decorated your house yet?"

  "No, but what does that have to do with the vibe in my trailer?" I snorted, not wanting to dive into whatever she was headed toward, and yet she wouldn't let me escape the truth.

  "It has nothing to do with the trailer, and everything to do with you." She poked me in the chest and offered me a weak smile. "Get dressed in that black button down and grey slacks. Actually, put on the slacks and bring the shirt with you."

  "You're trying to seduce me again, aren't you?" I winked and took a step back as she chuckled.

  "We all are, love." She turned and left me there with the realization of what the vibe was.

  Emptiness.

  Chapter 2

  Riley

  "Excuse me! Excuse me! Waitress!" The older lady that stood, yelling at me from the back of the restaurant, had been giving me hell since the moment she sat down at my table.

  I cleared my throat and apologized to the guy who was trying to order at one of my other tables.

  "I'll be right back. Sorry about this." I gave him a sweet smile that I didn’t feel and walked back toward her in time to watch her drop down into her chair with a loud huff. "I'm sorry, ma'am. What can I help you with?"

  "Firstly, you can take this steak back to the kitchen. I said medium rare and this is not medium rare at all." She poked at the steak on her plate and glanced back up at me. "What did you write down? Medium well?"

  "No, ma'am. I wrote down medium rare. I'm happy to-"

  "Let me see your tablet." She extended her hand and watched me with complete disdain. It had been that day already, so having the wicked witch of the west seated in my section was no big surprise. The fact that I had exactly thirty minutes after my shift to drop off a late paper with my English professor and change for the Eon press conference that night had my stomach in knots. I'd been running back and forth to the bathroom my whole damn shift.

  "Wilma. Jeez." The little old man beside her offered me a weak smile. "It's all right, dear. Just get the steak fixed."

  "It's not all right. Let me see the tablet." She popped the table twice, causing me to jump. Where I wasn't at all docile, having someone snap at me when I was riding on E and headed toward a long night of hiding myself behind a facade of indifference was too much to handle.

  I pulled my notepad from my front pocket and handed it to her as I picked up her plate and walked it back into the kitchen.

  "This was supposed to be medium rare." I set it on the counter as the chef pulled it close and rolled his eyes.

  "That is medium rare. See this?" He poked at it and blood oozed out onto the plate. "Learn your cooking temperatures, Riley. You're wasting my time."

  "Great, well, the woman at my table is having a fucking conniption because it's not medium rare to her. Can you please throw another steak on the grill for her? Today's not the day for this." I put my hands on my hips, suddenly so damn tired of my old life.

  Barely skimming by from paycheck to paycheck left me angry and quick to tear someone's throat out. The situation with my mother losing our house and lying about keeping my things safe in the process unraveled me even more. I had a bright future ahead of me for sure, but seeing that I was stuck in the present, the future was a world away.

  "No. Take it back out there and tell her that the steak is medium rare. Period." He narrowed his eyes on me before turning around and going back to the insanity in the kitchen. The rumors at the restaurant that I’d seen Ethan Lewis had half the place loving me, and the other half not wanting anything to do with me. It was like I was ‘selling out’ by trying to make something better of my life. Fuck them too.

  "Fine." I turned and walked back out to the table.

  "Here. Obviously it's not you who's an idiot, unless you put in the wrong thing when you typed it in. Where is the ticket you submitted? I want to see it," the woman barked and handed me back my notepad.

  The masculine voice behind me caused me to jump. "Hey, we're just going to grab something from somewhere else. This is taking forever."

  "No, don't do that. I'll be rig
ht with you. I promise." Inadequacy raced through me, and I couldn't help but wonder for the hundredth time why I had decided to wait tables. Nothing was more stressful. People were rude, uncaring assholes on good days...

  "I was talking to you first!" the woman barked and stood up.

  "You know what? Get your own damn steak." I took off my apron, pulled my keys and what little bit of cash I had from it, and tossed it on the table. "I hope no one ruins your day like you've ruined mine."

  I turned and walked out of the restaurant not feeling free like I wish I did, but worrying about how I was going to help Charlotte pay rent until my first advance from Eon Productions came in. I wished it was the worst of my worries, but it wasn't. Facing Ethan Lewis for the first time in almost a week was.

  I'd lied about the almost kiss at his house a week before. Shameful pride left me trying to backtrack and cover up my need to push our budding relationship into something it never would be, nor should it. Even more than that, the sickening realization that he was seeing someone, or at least sleeping with her, was devastating. Why I thought an icon like him didn’t have women warming his bed every other night of the week was beyond me. He wasn’t living a normal man’s life. He wasn’t a boy I’d met at school at the coffee shop and our love affair would soon start.

  He was Ethan fucking Lewis and this wasn’t the movies. I needed to remember that above all else.

  I got into my clunky car and tried to start the engine only to have the car sputter and die.

  "No. Please. Come on. Not today. I just made up half an hour. Don't take it back from me," I growled and rubbed the dashboard as I tried again. "Come on, baby. Start up."

  Nothing. The fucking thing wouldn't even turn over.

  I let my head drop as someone tapped on my window. My manager, Gerald.

  "Fucking awesome." I opened the door and got out of the car seeing that I didn't have the ability to roll the window down.