by Witt, L. A.
The various directors even had their own subsets within the fandom these days. There was a playful—I hoped—rivalry between Anna’s fans and those of another director, who was apparently well-known for his work on some other show that had a lot of crossover fans.
And of course, the minute any of the actors walked in, everyone went batshit.
It was a wonder anyone still had a voice after the first day. Now, halfway through the second day, as fans lined up by the thousands for autographs, most people were starting to get hoarse. Somehow, Anna and the actors were holding their own.
I stayed behind Anna, watching the people in line while she signed autographs. Most of the fans were visibly nervous, but completely nonthreatening. A handful of them caught my eye, though, and I watched them closely as they inched toward her table.
One girl clutched a book close to her chest, her fingers twitching along its spine. Whenever the line wasn’t moving, she shifted her weight to the left, back to the right, back to the left, or rocked from her heels to the balls of her feet. Lips taut, she kept glancing at Anna. Probably just some starstruck nerves and maybe a little social anxiety.
When she reached the table, she kept her eyes down, muttered a quiet “Hi,” and couldn’t manage another word to Anna, not even her name so Anna could personalize the autograph.
I felt for the kid—these events were insane. Even Hunter Easton’s cowriter-slash-boyfriend had been a nervous wreck at the first couple of cons, the poor kid, but he seemed to be getting better about the whole thing. He stayed close to Hunter, though. But then, who wouldn’t want to stay close to that guy?
After the signing, we went back up to Anna’s room so she could relax for a little while. She had no more events until tomorrow, thank God. Now the studio was treating all their people to dinner out, as they always did, so the only thing we had left to do was dress, go downstairs, get in a limo, and eat free food. There’d be free booze too, but not for Alfonse and me or any of the other security personnel. Damn it.
As always, the studio picked one of the more expensive restaurants in town and rented out the entire place. Dinner was mostly seafood—which had no business being this amazing in a goddamned desert—and of course, some of the best wines to be had.
“It’s a shame you can’t drink.” Anna swirled her glass and laughed. “Tell you what—I’ll drink enough for both of us.”
“You’re a real pal, you know that?”
She elbowed me. “What’re friends for?”
“Uh-huh.”
She giggled, then took a deep swallow of the wine I couldn’t have. I was envious, but I was okay with not drinking tonight. If I did, there was a good chance I’d go overboard and wake up tomorrow with a hell of a hangover and turn that lunch with my kids into an even bigger disaster than it already promised to be.
I glanced at my watch. Ten thirty-five. A little over twelve hours to go. Oh God. I should’ve been excited, but I was dreading it. My stomach was all tied up in knots as I picked at my dessert, and everyone else drank and chatted around me.
As the dinner wound down, my heart pounded with apprehension that refused to be ignored. The day was over. Tomorrow, another bodyguard would take my place beside Anna, though I was starting to wonder if he should start tonight instead. If I’d been drinking, I’d have sobered up as we headed downstairs to the limos because now there was nothing except a night of sleep—guaranteed restless bullshit sleep—standing between me and that lunch. My shift wasn’t over yet, but my mind was already fixed on tomorrow.
When we returned to the limo to make our way back to the hotel, the apprehension only worsened.
Jackie and the kids would be here tomorrow. I’d see them in person. We’d talk.
Wouldn’t we?
This really was going to be a disaster. I just knew it.
No. No, we’d all get together and calmly talk. Maybe the kids wouldn’t be thrilled about it, but no one ever said this was going to be fun. It was necessary, even if it would suck for everyone involved. Jackie hadn’t lugged them clear out here from LA for nothing.
An elbow jarred me out of my thoughts, and I turned to see Anna watching me. “You okay?” She gestured at the limo’s wet bar. “You’ve been staring at that decanter for like ten minutes.”
I glanced at the crystal decanter that had apparently been holding my focus while my mind wandered. I shook my head. “I was just thinking.”
“Yeah?” She grinned. “Dirty thoughts about your man?”
I laughed. “Anyone ever told you what a lightweight you are?”
“Mm-hmm.” She shrugged. “Just means it doesn’t take as much work to get drunk.”
Chuckling, I rolled my eyes. “Guess that’s one way to look at it.”
She giggled, but turned a bit more serious. “Really, though—are you okay?”
“I will be after tomorrow.”
She shot me a puzzled look, but then nodded. “Right. The kids. That’s tomorrow, isn’t it?”
I nodded.
She patted my arm and grimaced. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
I stared out the window for the rest of the drive.
Were they going to cancel at the last minute?
Had Jackie been completely honest with them about why they were coming?
Was this going to be a total fucking waste of time, and was I an idiot for holding on to hope that it wouldn’t be?
At the hotel, Alfonse and I got out first and stood aside, one on each side of the open door, so everyone else could follow. He kept an eye on the space around the rear of the car. I watched the front. A few people were milling around or passing by, but no one seemed particularly interested in us.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow was almost here. My kids were almost here. Jesus. Would Haley even talk to me? Jackie hadn’t indicated they’d be bailing tomorrow, so presumably she was at least coming along, but that didn’t mean—
Movement from the corner of my eye jerked me out of my thoughts. My body reacted before my mind did, and by the time I was consciously aware of what was happening, I’d hit the ground and the lanky guy was trying to squirm out of my grasp.
Lifting myself up, I exhaled shakily. My cheekbone throbbed. A few places on my knees and elbows burned, probably from the pavement. Heart pounding and adrenaline surging through my veins, I took in the scene. Everyone was okay. Wide-eyed, but safe. Despite my momentary distraction, the guy hadn’t brought any harm to anyone.
Hotel security descended on the guy, and Alfonse and I got up and dusted ourselves off. What the hell had happened? The son of a bitch had come out of nowhere. One second, Carter was stepping out of the car, and the next, a lanky guy was lunging at him.
I’d snapped out of it and tackled him just before he’d reached the car. He’d been fast, though. And for a skinny motherfucker, he was strong. Before we’d even hit the ground, he’d squirmed out of my grasp. Alfonse had grabbed him, but not before an elbow cracked me in the cheekbone. I’d snatched a handful of hair in one hand, twisted his arm in the other, and abruptly, the guy had frozen.
And now he was in the hands of hotel security, screaming and protesting as they hauled him upright. “No! Just let me . . . Come on, don’t . . . don’t do . . .”
“You’re gonna come inside and sit down,” one of the gruff hotel security guys snarled. He put a couple of zip ties on the guy’s wrists, and they led him away from the growing crowd.
As I dabbed my lip and cheek, making sure I wasn’t bleeding much, I surveyed the area. Shit. In order to get to us, the lunatic had had to cross a good thirty feet of open pavement. It wasn’t like he’d just dropped out of the sky. He was fast, yes, but I should’ve seen him. I should’ve stopped him. He never should have gotten that close.
Fuck. Oh fuck. You idiot!
“You okay?” Alfonse asked.
“Yeah.” The scuffle had been short, but I was out of breath. “You?”
“Yeah. I’m good.” His stony expression confirmed
what I was thinking: I’d fucked up.
He opened his mouth to say something, but hotel security descended on us, and everyone was herded into one of the event rooms, which was immediately sealed off by hotel security and cops. Paramedics arrived quickly—they were probably the on-site medics for the con—and checked Carter, Alfonse, and me. They determined none of us needed anything more than an ice pack, though, and left.
We were all free to leave, but we hung around in the mostly empty room. Anna sipped a bottle of water while she talked to hotel security. Carter sat in one of the plush chairs, rubbing his temple gingerly. Levi and Alfonse both stayed close to him.
Levi turned toward me, and his expression darkened. I half expected him to come over and give me a piece of his mind, but he faced Carter and didn’t look my way again.
I couldn’t sit still, so I stood beside another cluster of chairs and rocked from my heels to the balls of my feet. My cheekbone throbbed, but it wasn’t serious. No blood. Presumably nothing broken. Probably just a hell of a bruise to tug at my conscience every time I saw my reflection.
As I replayed the attack in my mind, though, guilt swelled in my stomach. There was no way he should have gotten that close to us. And there was no way I could explain what happened without admitting the truth—that in one of those rare, dangerous moments that were the very reason I was on the goddamned security firm’s payroll, I’d been someplace else.
You fucking idiot. What did—
My phone vibrated.
I cringed—I’d been checking in with Scott every few hours as requested, and he was probably texting me to say good-night, something he’d been doing like clockwork since I’d left for the con. It wasn’t difficult to read between the lines. He said goodnight, I’d respond with the same, and he’d know I was okay.
And now, as I looked at his message, my conscience shriveled a bit more.
Not only had I let my guard down and made people vulnerable, but now I had two choices: lie to Scott (directly or by omission), or tell him the truth and confirm that he had a reason to be as worried as he was.
Cringing, I wrote back, Good night :) – talk to you tomorrow.
That would hopefully be enough to let him sleep tonight. At least then one of us would.
Anna appeared beside me. She hugged herself, alternately watching Carter and me.
“You doing okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Just a bit rattled.” Her eyes flicked toward my cheek, and her lips pulled tight. Apparently the guy had left a mark. Then she met my gaze. “What about you?”
“Physically? I’m good. But . . .” I exhaled, stealing a glance at Carter so my conscience would burn just a little hotter. “I am so sorry, Anna. That—”
“Don’t.” She squeezed my arm. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Actually, it was.” I rubbed the back of my neck, avoiding her eyes. “I was . . . I got distracted. I should’ve been more focused. I am so sorry.”
“Jeremy, relax.” She smiled faintly. “It was dark. We’re all exhausted. And besides, nobody got hurt.”
But they could have. What if he’d had a knife? Or a gun? Jesus, what if I’d taken another two seconds to notice him?
“Look, I think everyone is tired,” she said. “I’m going to let Finn know we’re calling it a night, and then we can go up to the room and be done with all these people for a while.” The exhaustion in her tone was palpable—whatever buzz she’d had from drinking her and my shares of the wine was apparently long gone.
“Okay,” I said. “That sounds like a winner.”
“I’ll be right back.” She hesitated. “We’re surrounded by hotel security, so just relax for the moment. I won’t be out of sight.”
I nodded.
She headed over to where the con organizer and Finn Larson were speaking with the hotel’s head of security. While they talked, I let my gaze drift around to everyone else.
Alfonse glanced at me. Then he said something to Carter and Levi, and stepped away.
Headed right toward me.
Shit.
When he was close enough for us to speak without others hearing, he asked, “You all right?” Alfonse’s features were taut, as was his voice. He knew I’d fucked up, but he wasn’t the type to come out and say it.
Avoiding his eyes, I nodded. “Is Carter okay?”
“Yeah, he’s good. He was right on the curb when the guy came at him, and he stumbled. Turned his ankle a little and hit his head on the roof of the car.”
I grimaced and turned to him. “How bad?”
Alfonse shrugged. “He’ll be fine. Probably won’t even leave much of a bruise—just rang his bell a bit.” He paused. “You sure you’re all right?”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. From his tone, he wasn’t asking about my face or about the scrapes on my arm. “Yeah. I’m . . .” I exhaled, and made myself look him in the eye. “I’ll be okay. Maybe with a little luck, I’ll have a job tomorrow.”
“You’re not getting fired.” He shook his head “There’s no way—”
“I let my guard down and let someone get that close to . . . fuck, everyone!”
Alfonse sighed. “Look.” He put a heavy hand on my shoulder, and his dark eyes bored right into me. “It happens. You aren’t the first, you won’t be the last. Just do whatever you gotta do to get your head back in the game, all right?”
I nodded. “I will.”
He clapped my shoulder, then let me go. “Take it easy tonight.”
“Will do.” Why did I feel worse knowing he had my back? It was like he was handling me with kid gloves, telling me it was all right when we both knew it wasn’t. Weirdly, I was pretty sure I’d feel better if he or somebody else let me have it and reamed me for fucking up the way I knew I had. It was probably coming sooner or later. The longer it took, the higher up the chain that person would be, and the more precarious my employment would be.
At least I’d be off work soon. Good thing I had a replacement coming in already for my day off, so they wouldn’t have to scramble to bring in a replacement if they wanted to suspend me or something. Which they likely wouldn’t. Carter was all right and so was Anna, and the assailant had been subdued before anyone came to actual harm. It just depended on how the studio execs felt about it, how their insurance company felt about it, and if Anna or Carter decided to raise hell about it.
For tonight, everyone was going to relax and catch their breath. Anna and I walked in silence to the elevator, heading up to the suite we shared. She hugged me good-night and disappeared into her room. I went into mine, shut the door, and lay back across the bed.
And I’d never been so glad to be off the fucking clock.
Chapter 16
Jackie and I had agreed to meet at a diner-themed restaurant a few blocks off the Strip and mercifully away from the convention.
When I walked in, she and the kids were already there. Sitting around a chrome-edged table, they were focused on something—a map, by the looks of it, so probably planning the rest of their trip—and didn’t see me.
As I made my way across the room, I took my time, stealing this rare opportunity to just look at them. It was weird, realizing how long it had been since we’d all been in the same space. I hadn’t seen the kids in person since right before I’d left Los Angeles, and Skype just wasn’t the same. The computer screen didn’t show that Zach must’ve grown two inches, or that Haley’s hair was halfway down her back now. She was taller, and though it was hard to tell while they were all seated, I suspected she had an inch or so on her mom now.
God. My kids were growing up.
And I hadn’t seen Haley laugh like that in . . . how long? My chest tightened. She really was looking more and more like her mother every day. Zach looked more like me. And he was laughing too. Subtly, the way he always had, while Haley was more boisterous. Considering neither of them ever seemed willing to crack a smile when they talked to me, it was simultaneously moving and heartbreaking to see them happy now.
They’d stay that way if you turned around and left.
I winced. That was what I’d done to piss them off in the first place. I’d left, and they weren’t going to let me forget it. I just hoped we could somehow bridge the gap they’d never forgiven me for creating.
As I came closer, Jackie turned and did a double take. “Oh, there you—” Her eyebrows shot up. “What happened to your face?”
“Just a little scuffle.” I gestured dismissively as I took the empty chair. “Occupational hazard.” There was no need to let her or the kids know that my distraction over our situation had played a role in letting someone get close enough to leave a mark. Jackie didn’t need the guilt, and Haley would probably think it served me right.
Whatever they’d all been talking about, it was gone, and so was the laughter. Zach played with the edge of a napkin. Haley stared into her drink. When that apparently bored her, she looked out the window.
Jackie and I looked at each other. She shrugged, expression taut as if to say I don’t know either.
I took a breath. “Listen, I brought some things for the two of you.”
Zach faced me with bland curiosity. Haley’s eyes shifted toward me, her expression considerably more hostile.
I slid a couple of manila envelopes across the table. “Levi and Carter had the cast and crew sign these for you guys.”
Zach picked his up and pulled the contents free. He thumbed through the photos—some production stills, some promotional shots—and managed a slight smile. “Cool. Thanks, Dad.”
“Haley?” Jackie prodded.
Our daughter glared at her.
I thumbed the edge of the table just to give my hands something to do. Apparently we needed to cut to the chase today, because she was obviously uninterested in pretending to tolerate me.
“Look.” I exhaled. “Now that we’re all here, we should probably talk about how things have been.”
The glare came my way. “I don’t see why we have to keep going around and around with this. You left.” She shrugged. “Kinda seems like the end of it.”