Could This Be Love?

by Lee Kilraine

  “Her apartment doesn’t allow pets.” Pia backed up a step from the fence when one goat tried to investigate the two of them.

  “You don’t share her affinity for animals?”

  “I don’t mind them. The trouble is, they don’t share an affinity for me. I’ve been pecked, bitten, head-butted, snotted, spit, and peed on by more animals than I care to count.” Pia grimaced at the goat still trying to get to her through the fence.

  Avery laughed and gently pushed away a goat trying to tear the pocket off her jeans. She looked so innocent and sweet. Sijan scowled watching her, knowing she was anything but innocent. The woman had reeled him in with her siren song while she’d lied and schemed like a pro. No, he wasn’t falling for this again. He walked to the gate and opened it a few feet. “Let’s go, Avery. Enough playing. The faster we start, the faster we finish. You’ll be as happy to get rid of me as I will you two.”

  Avery’s face moved from happy sunshine to overcast sobriety in a blink. Sijan refused to feel guilty, like he’d just pulled the wings off a beautiful butterfly. It was a quiet ride back to the house.

  ***

  Avery was antsy as they gathered in the study an hour later. She and Pia sat on the leather couch facing the bay window and rolling hills beyond. Dirk relaxed confidently in a wingback chair next to the unlit fireplace, and Sijan sat looking grim behind his large cherry-wood desk.

  “Let’s hear it, Avery. What script did you pick? I hope you were thinking of me when you read through them and picked something with a juicy role I can bite into.” Dirk slapped the palms of his hands on the roll arms of the chair. “I am so psyched for this. This is going to be awesome for my career.”

  Avery ignored Dirk, looking toward Sijan. “I would rather wait to hear from Paxton first. It’s a waste of our time—”

  “He called a half hour ago. The contracts are legal, and while he thinks we could win if we contested to get out of them since none of us gave consent”—Sijan sat forward, leaning his elbows on the desk—“he doesn’t recommend it, as it could be tied up in court for years and cost more money than it’s worth.”

  Avery shot a glance over at Pia, who shrugged and said, “Keep it short and sweet, Av. We’ll be back in Greensboro before you know it.”

  “Yeah, there’s only one problem.” She’d been wrestling with this all night. This problem was partly to blame for her manic stress at breakfast this morning.

  Dirk smirked. “You couldn’t find a role good enough to showcase my talent?”

  “Do you have talent, Dirk? I confess I’ve never seen our film together. I never read any reviews after it came out.” Avery looked across at him.

  “You never watched your own movie? Not even the dailies after each day of filming?” Sijan raised an eyebrow in her direction.

  “Nope.”

  “What?” Dirk looked outright stunned. “You never saw us act together?”

  “Oh, I saw us act together, Dirk. Didn’t I, Pia?” Avery’s gaze pinned Dirk like an insect in a display case.

  “You surely did. It was some acting job, ace.”

  Sijan’s gaze glanced between Avery and Dirk. “Obviously, I’m missing something here, but let’s move on. What’s the problem, Avery?”

  Avery reached over to the box of scripts and grabbed the one she had tucked on the side. She stood up and moved forward just enough to toss the script on Sijan’s desk. “This. This is the problem.”

  Sijan looked at the script on his desk. His gaze shot up to Avery’s. “This is the script you’re picking?” he asked, sounding doubtful.

  “I know, right? And I didn’t pick it. It picked me. The damn thing spoke to me. It wouldn’t let me sleep last night. It’s just . . . I mean . . . there’s so much going on in that little screenplay. It’s deep and stark and painful and beautiful. I think I have to help tell this story.” And she had a terrible feeling it was going to break her heart.

  “Well, what is it?” Dirk asked. “Something hot and sexy? A comedy? I’ve been working on my comedic timing. A thriller?”

  Avery shook her head. “No. It’s a love triangle. And no one wins.”

  ***

  Sijan left the office and strode purposely down to the gym. He needed to think about what had just happened. Being physical helped him think, and although he didn’t have a set of tools handy like Tynan, his punching bag was just as good.

  Avery had picked his script. The script he’d given to Jerry to read. He hadn’t even realized it was in the damn box. He should have checked before he’d handed it over to her.

  As if it wasn’t hard enough being near her and trying to ignore the pull she had on him, now he would have to listen to her warm honey voice speak the lines he’d written. And, boy, was she right when she said no one wins in this love triangle. He’d written it after watching a good friend go through an ugly divorce. He’d created a no-win scenario, which was what love often felt like. Love’s double-edged sword sliced and diced in this screenplay. It didn’t take any prisoners, and it didn’t leave any winners.

  Sijan changed into athletic shorts and a T-shirt. In the gym, he wrapped his wrists and hands for protection before slipping on his boxing gloves. His punching bag was as good as a hammer. Hitting the bag helped him channel his frustrations and thoughts into a physical release, leaving him with a clearer head. For thirty minutes, he alternated jabs, uppercuts, and hooks while his head worked through why Avery’s pick of his screenplay was bothering him.

  First off was the fact that he wasn’t sure if Ferris had the acting chops for it, and he had absolutely no idea if Avery did. He thought back to the five years she had been in Hollywood, and it actually made sense that he hadn’t heard of her. While she had supposedly been taking Hollywood by storm, he had been here in North Carolina getting his bachelor of fine arts. He had been all theater, all the time, and thought anyone who made films was selling out.

  He threw a vicious right hook remembering what a self-righteous snob he’d been. And how quickly he had been willing to sell out all his snobby Shakespearean principles when his girlfriend at the time decided to try her talent out on the West Coast. He couldn’t pack a bag quick enough to go with her. Throwing a series of jabs and a roundhouse kick with his leg, he realized he had probably been pulling into Tinseltown with his suitcase just as Avery had been escaping with hers.

  Left hook. Why had Avery disappeared from Hollywood anyway? No one seemed to know. Not even Jerry, and Jerry knew everything about what was going on with everybody in the film industry. Drugs? Pregnancy? Nervous breakdown? Maybe this was something he should look into. Or, hell, why not come right out and ask Avery about it?

  Because he didn’t always get the truth from Avery, that’s why not. He could ask Pia first and see how far that got him. Left cross, uppercut, kick.

  He kept his feet moving and let his punches fly, finishing his bag workout in a flurry of fast feet and forceful strikes. At last exhausted, he reached out to steady the swaying bag. He pulled off his boxing gloves and hung them on a wall hook to dry out. Slowly, he unwound the protective wrap, first from one hand and then from the other, hanging them on a neighboring hook to dry also. Reaching his hands up to the bar on the wall, he used it to stretch his muscles before pulling his body up and cranking out a few pull-ups with his already tired arms and shoulders. A fresh set of towels sat ready on a shelf just inside the gym door. He grabbed one to wipe the sweat from his face and neck before heading down the hall to his room for a shower.

  He needed to ask Paxton or Jerry if there were any stipulations on what they could film or the quality of the product. If not, it was a funny way to do business—unless whoever had bought the contracts was banking on the sensationalism of Avery’s reappearance alone.

  There was personal pride and respect for the craft too. Obviously there was some concern about not creating something cringe-worthy. On the other hand, filming his own screenplay would be a great way to launch plan B. Either way, he wasn’t leaving acting
anytime soon, and he sure didn’t want to leave as a joke. He made a mental note to get his hands on Avery’s movies. And when he passed her bedroom and got another whiff of her damn perfume, he made another mental note to keep his hands off Avery.

  It was during his cold shower that he decided this project had to be completed quickly. Although the screenplay called for a full cast of characters, he made the executive decision to shoot it minimalist style with only the three of them. It would save them time and headaches by not having to work with other actors. He’d have to call around for a film crew to see who was available and hope that didn’t delay getting started.

  Sijan quickly threw on some jeans and a black T-shirt. He needed to find Avery and let her know what he’d decided. Avery and Pia were in the kitchen, and this time Avery was hovering over what looked like a large Caesar salad. Lettuce was disappearing at a fast rate. He watched in amazement. “Does she always eat like this?”

  Pia shook her head. “Nope. At least she hasn’t for five years.”

  When Avery emptied her bowl and reached for another helping, Sijan took the bowl from her and handed it to Pia. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea after this morning’s pancake experience.”

  “I can’t take the stress.”

  “Believe me, I’m getting that. Tomorrow you’re in the gym with me and I’ll teach you a healthy way to de-stress.”

  Avery grabbed the salad bowl from Pia and put it in the refrigerator. She started cleaning up the counters with a sponge from the sink with quick, jerking motions. “We need to get started on the movie.”

  “I agree,” Sijan said. “I’ll email the script to Frank over at the copy store. Kaz can pick up the copies and bring them over later today. I’ll call a few tech and film people I know, but we may have to wait on a cameraman.”

  Avery shook her head. “No. Our guys Jeff and Kent are paid interns this semester. They graduate film school in the spring. We have all the equipment rented and here in Climax. We can even be ready to start tomorrow.”

  “Are they any good?” Sijan asked.

  She looked hard at him. “Does it matter?”

  “Good point. Okay, we can start tomorrow.” Sijan nodded. “We can even have our first read-through tonight after Kaz brings the scripts.”

  Avery started to hyperventilate and wheeze. Sijan had a Twinkie in her mouth before Pia could even blink. “Take it easy, Avery.” He ran his hand through her hair and on to the back of her neck, where he gently rubbed. “That’s it. Relax.”

  Her forehead fell against his chest, and she rested it there while he rubbed his hands in circles on both her upper and lower back. He could feel the tension leaving her body with each pass of his hand.

  “I don’t think I can do this, Sijan,” she whispered.

  “Then why did you start it?” When her body stiffened in his arms and her breath hitched in a light wheeze, he knew he’d said the wrong thing. He used his hands to massage deeper into the stiff muscles of her back and shoulders. She pressed her face up against the side of his neck, stirring memories he needed to bury. Deep. “My first year in the business, I worked on an indie film. We filmed it in digital with a crew of five people. That’s what we’ll do. I’ll direct and take on dp duties. We’ll have your two, Jeff and Kent, for camera and lighting. My brother Kaz is a genius with computers and all things techno. He can handle the sound. Ty’s a licensed electrician, and we can hire a couple of theater students from the local community college for a boom operator and gaffer. Pia can be in charge of makeup and wardrobe. We’ll put Dirk to work too. Okay? This will be over before you know it. You’ll never have to see my ugly mug again.”

  Her giggle sounded beautiful in his ear. Until her giggle morphed into tears, and then hyperventilating and wheezing, and all the back rubbing in the world wasn’t helping. Finally, he tilted her face up and kissed her. A long, slow kiss that made her breath catch and finally settle out.

  When he pulled back she looked up at him, her eyes soft and unfocused. “Wow, that sure beats a Twinkie.”

  “Good to know. Pia, go ahead and call Jeff and Kent and get them here tonight. Now, let’s go find Ferris and let him know our plan. I’m going on record right now. I am not kissing him when he starts wheezing and hyperventilating out of excitement.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Like clockwork, the Cates Clan circled the wagons that evening over at Sijan’s farm. It took both Quinn, in his uniform, and Tynan to get everyone past the growing crowd of reporters and paparazzi at the gates.

  Avery was sitting at the kitchen counter when more than one Cates male frantically called her name. She walked toward the sound of male desperation and understood immediately when she arrived at the foyer. Tansy stood in the center, a blubbering, hyperventilating mess while Sijan, Tynan, and Quinn stood as far away as the foyer allowed, shifting uncomfortably as if a wild bull stood swinging his sharp horns around. It was almost funny to see the action hero, former Special Forces soldier, and cop cower in the face of feminine tears. Almost, except for Tansy’s obvious pain.

  “She showed up down at the gate like this.” Tynan fidgeted with the keys in his pocket and edged a few steps closer to Quinn. “We thought it was better to bring her up to the house than let her cry to reporters.”

  Avery was still hurt at what Tansy had done to her, but seeing her crying her heart out was gut-wrenching. And there was a baby to consider. There was no way Avery was going to stand by and let an innocent child suffer. She knew life was a stacked deck and certainly knew what it was like to be dealt a bad hand. She walked over and wrapped her arms around Tansy, which only made the girl cry more. Avery looked up at Sijan. “Can she stay for a few days? Please?”

  “If you can get her to stop crying. The bedroom next to Pia’s is free.”

  Avery took the hint and steered the still wailing Tansy down the hall and into the bedroom beside Pia’s. “Tansy, take a breath. That’s it.” Avery gently maneuvered her onto a bench at the end of the bed.

  Tansy took a deep breath and pushed her hair back off her tear-splotched face. She wiped the mascara from under her eyes and let out a big sigh. “Thank you, Avery. I know I need to pull myself together. And you always help me do that. That’s why I knew I needed to come here even before Mom suggested it.”

  “Why would Michelle suggest you come to stay with me? Didn’t you tell her what you did?” Avery took a step back.

  “Well, I was about to, Avery, when Mom said how much she’d missed you over the last few years. She told me to tell you she thought you wanted your space a few years ago, so she gave it to you.”

  “What? Why would she think that?”

  “I don’t know, but she said you’ve had enough time to be independent, and now, whether you want it or not, get ready to be smothered with family.”

  Avery knew the facts. She now knew that Michelle and Bob had never lost touch with her. They had known where she was the last two years Tansy had been living with her. Seven hundred and thirty days without a single visit or phone call from them. Her common sense tried to suppress the bubbling up of emotion, but hope floated up like a feather on a soft breeze. Bright, fragile hope. Because it was exactly what the little girl inside her had longed to hear since she was five years old. “She did? Is she coming to visit too?”

  “She can’t get off work right now, but she’ll try.” Tansy began wandering around the room, examining the décor. “How amazing is Sijan Cates’s house? Is it gorgeous and decorated to the hilt? Oooh, I can’t wait to walk through it. How did you end up here? Is this because of the ‘thing’ he has for you?”

  “It’s a long story, but maybe we should talk about your situation instead of mine.”

  “I can’t talk about it right now, Avery. I just can’t. I’m not ready to deal with it yet. But I promise I will soon. I just need a few days to accept it. Okay?”

  Yeah, Avery knew the feeling. She still wasn’t ready to deal with everything she’d run away from in Hollywoo
d five years ago. “Only if you promise to eat healthy. And only a few days. It’s not just you to consider anymore.”

  Later that evening, Sijan’s family gathered in the kitchen to prepare dinner with a subdued Tansy along to help. Avery, Sijan, and Dirk sat around the poker table in the game room off the kitchen doing their first read-through of the script. Pia, Kent, Jeff, and Kaz sat in to make notes on costumes, lighting, and camera angles.

  Avery wasn’t nervous, but she was dreading the emotions she knew this role would drag her through. Maybe it was the loss of her parents when she was so young. Or her memory of wanting so badly for her foster parents, Michelle and Bob, to love her. Possibly she had just been born emotional. All she really knew was her ability to find and touch those feelings in their most uninhibited form was why acting was natural to her. And painful.

  “I’m a little unclear on the husband’s motivation,” Dirk said, his forehead wrinkled in concentration. “I don’t get why he didn’t just ask for a divorce to begin with.”

  “The husband takes his wife for granted,” Sijan said. “The wife takes the husband for granted too. They forgot to keep loving each other over the years.”

  Dirk shrugged and shook his head. “I get that, but that happens all the time to people. It’s normal. You can’t stay ‘in love’ forever. I still don’t see the motivation.”

  “I agree that it happens all the time, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t destructive. And when two people fall in love, they think it’s going to be forever. They probably can’t imagine loving each other less, until it starts to happen over the years.”

  Avery nodded. “They were both settling, and fine with it. Until the miscarriage. That was when she realized how much she was counting on having the baby to love. To love her back. Suddenly she needs desperately to be loved. To feel loved. Now, as they grieve in their isolation, the loneliness eats away at her.”