Someone I Used to Know

by Blakney Francis

  We settled in the living room, bypassing the more formal setting of the dining room. If I was going to be spending copious amounts of time with a person, then I wanted to know I could be comfortable around them.

  “Wow, your house is super chic…and clean. Who would have thought?” He sat opposite of me, on a chair I hadn’t picked out. I was starting to be a little off-put by everyone’s shock that I wasn’t treating my house like a trashcan or brothel. Did I really come across as such a slob?

  I hid my real feelings with a smile, choosing to hear his question as rhetorical.

  “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself –,” I glanced down to the open folder resting on the coffee table between us, “– Tad.”

  “First off, you should know that I have a huge amount of respect for your work, Mr. Davies. Your portrayal as a teenage runaway in Letters to My Former Self changed my life.” His voice was layered thick with emotion, and I almost shuddered under the intensity of his gaze. It was like he was trying to hypnotize me with the directness of his eye contact. I found it disconcerting.

  “Er…Thank you.” I said it as sincerely as possible, but even still, the sentence peaked at the end, like I was asking a question rather than asserting a sentiment.

  “I was born in Ohio,” he said in a much lighter voice, turning on a dime from creepy to chirpy. “I come from a big family and it taught me a lot about responsibility. It also taught me how to organize…”

  It didn’t bode well for mine and Tad’s relationship that I zoned out after the second sentence. I didn’t need an admirer as my assistant anyways. If you surrounded yourself with people constantly blowing hot air up your ass, your ego could float away with you. My sister, Brittany, was practically trailed by a fan club of minions, and she’d once had the audacity to submit her name for Emmy consideration for her work on a half-hour teen soap opera. She was such a joke.

  I had to give it to Tad though; he was a sharp dresser. And even Adley would have been impressed by his posture.

  Fucking great! How did she sneak back into my thoughts? Mentally, I gave her a great shove, and tried to refocus on Tad. He’d moved onto his college experience and how it taught him perseverance.

  “Look, mate…” I cut him off suddenly. “I don’t think this is going to work out.”

  Much to my surprise, in the face of rejection, Tad neither recoiled nor saddened. In fact, he looked delighted by the turn of events. Warning bells chimed in my head like noon at a clock tower, as the slightly smaller man slid off his chair and onto the sofa beside me with a pleased grin.

  “I hoped you would feel it too.” His hand came to rest on my knee above the fabric of my jeans, and my eyes zeroed in on it with paralyzed incredulity. “I don’t believe in mixing business with pleasure either.”

  Tad moved closer, and I’d become just about shocked silly. It wasn’t the first time I’d been come on to by a man, but it was the first time it had come so out of the blue.

  “Umm…am I interrupting?” The blond who had fled my bed hours before asked from the doorway. She’d forfeit the option of jeans, in favor of a pair of cut-off shorts, and I couldn’t say that I was complaining about the change. Her golden legs went on for kilometers. There was a more golden hue to her skin and a rosy flavor on her cheeks that hinted towards a long day in the sun. The theory was only proven more accurate by the even messier than usual wave to her long hair, which looked like it had been hand-dried by the beaming sun.

  “Adley!” I rushed towards her, pouring a million thanks into the expression on my face. She’d just made extricating myself from the situation I’d just stepped in, a whole lot easier. I didn’t like to hurt people’s feelings. Even with the girls I’d been with, I much preferred to slip out of bed unnoticed than have to face their wounded feelings. Tad seemed like a nice (if not presumptuous) bloke. “Sweetheart, I’m so glad your home.”

  She made a horrified face which I hid from Tad by laying a sloppy kiss right on her lips. With her arm shackled tightly in my grip, I turned back to the third party in the room with a bright smile, happy to pretend nothing at all had happened and let him have his pride.

  “Thanks for stopping by, Mr. …” I trailed off. I’d never gotten his last name so I was forced to fill in the blank with the next best thing, “Tad.”

  He looked suspiciously between Adley and I, and I willed her to look pleased standing at my side. Even I knew that was a long shot. She spent ninety percent of her time looking displeased, but thankfully the rejected applicant had no choice but to accept it. He didn’t miss another opportunity to touch me though, with a farewell handshake. Adley and I were silent until the click of the door echoed from the foyer to our ears. Quick to put distance between us, she went to the sofa, lifting the next folder with nonchalance as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

  “If you ever call me sweetheart again, I’ll cut off your balls.” Her eyes never left the papers she scanned.

  She didn’t deserve the satisfaction of my wince.

  “Don’t worry; I only have pet names for girls I actually like.”

  A small twitch pulled up the left side of her upper lip in the utterance of a smile, pleased with my cutting comment. It was official. I’d never known a single creature as magnificently backwards as Adley Adair.

  “You were late,” I told her, not ready to play nice.

  “I was sunbathing and fell asleep,” she admitted, explaining the slightest sunburn kissing her cheeks, nose, and forehead. “And I’m doing you a favor, remember? You’re lucky I’m here at all…Although from the looks Tad was giving you, I’d say I just interrupted you from getting real lucky.”

  “Jealous?”

  She scoffed. “Even if I was the type of girl who got jealous, I can assure you that you will never be the boy who pushes me to it.”

  There was too much conviction in her words. They begged me to prove her wrong. She felt something for me. The kind of sex we had didn’t exist in a world of indifference. Whether it be lust, love, or hate; Adley felt something. If I was willing to admit it, then why couldn’t she?

  The doorbell chimed, and she shuffled the papers of the next folder into a neat stack again.

  “That must be Ms. Candace Harris.”

  I greeted the next candidate at the door alone. She was blond, dyed to an icy white sheen, with big Bambi eyes and even bigger boobs. I thought she looked like a Barbie doll.

  “Hi, I’m Candace!” She bypassed the handshake that Tad had offered and went right for a hug, her feminine curves pushing up against me in all the right places. I’d always gone for more exotic looking girls, but I wasn’t one to turn down a free pet either.

  “Call me Declan.” I let her pass me and my eyes settled on the heavily tanned skin just below the end of her frayed jean skirt.

  Nope, she wasn’t my type at all. But Adley didn’t know that. I smirked.

  Alright, Adley Adair, let’s see just how much of the not-jealous-type you really are.

  Game on.

  Chapter Eleven

  Adley

  “Looking good, Alfred,” I complimented the Hawaiian bodyguard as I approached his post Monday morning. We were shooting outside and on-location at a farmer’s market, and he wore a pair of sunglasses where he sat with his arms crossed tightly over his barrel-like chest.

  I’d never seen him sit down before, and from his stiff back and tense posture, it was safe to say there was a good reason that I hadn’t. Both he and the chair looked uncomfortable as his bulging body tested the plastic’s boundaries of the four legs beneath him.

  “This weather is pretty extreme, huh? I don’t think they’d mind if we moved under the wardrobe tent,” I continued conversationally, with no expectation of him joining in on my small talk. He never did, and even if he had, I could easily predict what he would’ve said (or at least what the general message would’ve been). He would tell me that the hot sun could burn blisters directly onto his skin and he still wouldn’t have
moved from his designated spot.

  His eyewear prevented me from seeing the focus of his gaze, but his head was pointed predictably towards the action in front of the camera, where Georgia was taking twice as long to set up the shot, as she directed all the extras circulating around Madeline and Declan. If all bodyguards were as dedicated as Alfred, it was a miracle that anyone got stalked anymore.

  I wasn’t nearly as devoted to Madeline’s wellbeing as he was, but I settled in the chair beside him anyways. I hadn’t made much leeway in my mission to win his approval. My attempts at bribes went unrewarded (apparently he didn’t eat sweets, although his size told a different story), and my efforts to force him to talk to me were all epic failures. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was secretly hearing impaired. It would explain a lot, like how he was able to put up with Madeline on a consistent basis, and why my attempts at getting him to like me hadn’t even put a dent in his staunch armor.

  “This scene never happened in real life,” I informed him, squinting against the sun’s glare as I pointed my attention in Madeline and Declan’s direction along with him. I don’t know what prompted me to share the piece of information with him. It just slipped out. There was a harmless ease to my admission, knowing that he ignored everything that came out of my mouth.

  Going over the script for the day earlier with Madeline, she’d realized I wasn’t going to be much help with the unfamiliar content, and the spirited teenager had been none too pleased with it either.

  “Cam and I were more stay at home kind of people.” The words kept pouring out. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever read The Girl in the Yellow Dress, have you?”

  The most I could say for his reaction was that I knew he wasn’t dead, because his lungs kept right along pushing air in and out of his strained mouth.

  “Yeah, me either,” I answered as if he’d spoken.

  Alfred might have been the only other person in the world who hadn’t read Cam’s book. A sense of camaraderie tingled up my spine. He didn’t seek any answers from me, and the irony was that it made me want to give them to him.

  Suddenly my mouth turned against me, spewing out more facts about the truth behind The Girl in the Yellow Dress. I wished he would have stopped me. All it would’ve taken was one word, and the spell would have been broken. His silence seduced me with the power of a hundred seasoned psychologists.

  “…I never met the family that adopted the baby. I didn’t want to. If I knew what they looked like…” I trailed off. Not because I’d regained any sense of control, but because Alfred had abruptly stood and walked away from me. I hadn’t even noticed the scene had wrapped. Madeline’s bodyguard was already at her side.

  Well, alright then. I wobbled to my feet, feeling very much like I’d just been violently ill. In a way I had. I’d just emotionally projectile vomited all over Alfred. What the hell was wrong with me?

  As if she could sense my uncertainty, Madeline looked up, meeting my eyes across the set. Her lips were pinched together as she paused, and then with a slight shake of her head, I understood my dismissal. I had nothing to offer her and, therefore, was undeserving of a place at her side. In the back of mind I knew it was nothing personal. It was just Madeline. Taking any of her actions personally was a good way to destroy my self-esteem, and do it quickly.

  I tried to brush it off, falling back into the chair. As much as I hated to admit it, without Madeline’s demanding attention, I was kind of useless.

  “Who is that? Is she somebody?” The whisper did nothing to keep the words from floating to my ears. Two girls that were dressed like all the rest of the extras lingered a few feet away.

  I felt the other girl’s eyes on me in a quick belittling sweep.

  “She’s nobody, probably just part of the crew.”

  An unexpected burn rumbled inside of me, begging me to tell them exactly who I was and how important it made me. Surely they wouldn’t dare call me ‘nobody’ then. Just as quickly as it had come, the acid rush fizzled away, leaving me empty and berating myself. What the hell was wrong with me? I didn’t even want to be Adley Adair.

  Besides, even if I’d wanted to pitch a fit, the girls had already walked away to go join the flock of extras surrounding Declan. Unlike Madeline, he didn’t rush away from the admirers the first chance he got, instead he let them fawn over him as he chatted and signed autographs.

  I needed to clear my head.

  I abandoned my spot and went in the opposite direction of Declan.

  For a second, I paused at the border of the temporary production area, lingering at the line where Hollywood ended and reality began. And then I remembered. I was nobody, just as those girls had kindly reminded me. I was spending far too much time with famous people. Their paranoia was beginning to rub off on me.

  I wandered through the section of the market the film’s presence hadn’t disrupted, sucking in the California weather I’d missed so dearly. My parents used to go to a farmer’s market just like that one every Sunday. Did they still do that?

  Opening up myself to the past wasn’t like rolling down a window in the car to let an errant fly out, and then zipping it back closed just as easily. It was like expecting to poke a miniscule hole in a dam, and instead, busting the whole thing down with no way to stop every memory, feeling, and emotion, as it crushed me. For four years I had repressed every single thought of my mom and dad, but as I stood there, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering where they were at that exact moment. Was my dad still on his never ending ‘diet,’ trying to lose the elusive five pounds that settled around his waist? Did my mom still beam at my father like he handed her an Oscar when he complimented the meal we all knew very well she hadn’t cooked?

  The stinging memories were jostled back into the present as I caught sight of a face I recognized in the crowd. Fran and another crew member were walking towards me and the film set I’d just left behind.

  “Where are you sneaking off to?” Fran’s congenial smile cut deeply into her coconut colored cheeks. Her raven hair was pulled back into its predictable, no-nonsense ponytail.

  “I’m afraid I’m not much use to Madeline today. It actually might not be a bad idea for me to get a taxi back to Cam’s and get out of everyone’s way,” I told her with a self-deprecating shrug.

  “A taxi?” Fran’s expression bordered on outrage, like I’d suggested hitchhiking all the way to Vegas. She chewed on her lip, looking between the other crew member and me once, before shoving the unopened bottle of green tea towards the silent crew member. “Make sure Madeline gets this, and tell her I’ve gone to pick up her dry cleaning.”

  The crew member complied without comment, continuing on the route Fran had abandoned.

  “It just so happens that the dry cleaner’s isn’t too far from Cam’s place. How about a lift?” The personal assistant offered with a mischievous grin.

  I glanced at the crew member’s back and made a split second decision.

  “Hey!”

  He halted.

  “Can you let Mr. Davies know that I won’t be in need of a ride today?”

  The guy didn’t question it. He nodded and walked away. Maybe he was mute.

  I followed Fran to her car. It was a small, four-door sedan that looked both clean and efficient. The front seats were pristine, looking as polished and simple as I would expect of her, while the backseat looked like a glitter bomb had gone off. Barbies littered the floor board with the dignity of war veterans, and I had no doubt it had been Fran’s daughter, Maria, who took them to battle.

  “I really appreciate this,” I said as she readjusted the vents so they blew a constant flow of cool air at me.

  Fran was a very responsible driver, checking all her mirrors before backing out of the narrow parking spot.

  “It’s no problem, honestly. I wanted to speak with you about something anyways, so really it was the perfect excuse.”

  I hummed, waiting for her to elaborate.

  “I know Madeline wouldn’t
think to give you a heads up, but they’re shooting the scene where Adley goes to speak with the adoption agency for the first time tomorrow. I just wanted you to be able to prepare yourself. I can’t imagine that it’ll be easy for you.” Fran never glanced at me, her eyes drilled into the road ahead of us.

  I had been aware of what the following day’s work entailed for all the same reasons Fran had thought to warn me. I kept a close eye on the call sheets, perfectly aware of Madeline’s complete and utter lack of tact, and also my need to emotionally leash my composure. Going to talk to the agent for the first time, however, was far from the top of my dread list. Fran’s careful warning made me second-guess that, and I quickly brought the memory into focus.

  The building was three stories of intimidating brick in the heart of downtown Raleigh. It hadn’t even been too far of a walk from the loft, and my doctor had assured me that since I’d been active before I’d gotten pregnant, physical assertion wasn’t to be feared. The sun had hung directly overhead as it signaled noon, and made me wish for a hat to shade me and my oversized body. I wouldn’t have been upset that a hat would have hid my face either. I’m sure it burned with shame and guilt. Cam had no idea what I was doing.

  If I hadn’t been so nervous, I would have purred like a pleased cat basking in the air conditioning, but instead, my hands rattled with fear as I briefly spoke with the receptionist. I had called ahead, and they were expecting me. A woman with graying auburn hair came to fetch me, and I followed her into the elevator and then through a complicated layout of hallways once we’d arrived on the second floor.

  I uselessly wiggled in the plush chair she showed me to, uselessly seeking the comfort that had been denied my swelling body for months.

  “I’ve been looking over the information you provided for us earlier, Ms. Adair,” she said as she rifled through a manila folder with my name scrawled across the tab.

  “Is there a problem?” I sat on my hands to battle their nervous tremors. Nothing else seemed to work.