My One and Only

by Iris Morland

  “Oh, I see what you mean. I’ll edit that line,” said Glen companionably. He finally stood, but not before he caressed Lucy’s shoulder one last time.

  For the rest of the production, Lucy avoided being alone with Glen as much as possible. She never stayed late; she never arrived early. If she happened to be in the dressing room alone, she always locked the door. More than once, her castmates had to knock on the door and ask why it had been locked, Lucy acting like she hadn’t realized that it had been locked all along.

  She thought about reporting Glen, but she told herself she’d overreacted. He hadn’t hurt her, and he hadn’t threatened her. He’d been too handsy. She made up all kinds of excuses for him, mostly because it was easier to push it under the rug than confront the fact that her director had sexually harassed her.

  The last performance ended with Glen cornering Lucy in the dressing room. She thought she’d locked the door since she was alone, but maybe she’d forgotten in the excitement of the play ending. Her heart in her throat, she tried to leave, but Glen was persistent. He was bigger than her, and he was her boss. If she did anything he didn’t like, he could blackball her in the entire community if he wanted to.

  “Why are you so tense?” He once again began to rub her shoulders. “Your performance tonight was amazing, you know.”

  “Thank you.” She felt his hands move down her back. When he pushed the strap of her tank off her shoulder, she jumped up, stuttering, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

  “Lucy, don’t be like that. I’ve seen how you look at me. Don’t deny it. I can show you a good time, if you’ll let me.”

  When she looked back on this, she wished she’d been brave like her sister Thea. Thea would’ve kneed Glen in the balls and called him a gross motherfucker. Lucy, though, had never been as ballsy—literally and figuratively—as her older sister. She tended to believe that most people were decent and fair, and whenever she ran into someone who wasn’t, she couldn’t understand why.

  Maybe that made her naive, or just stupid. She didn’t know anymore.

  “Thank you, but no,” she said, hoping Glen didn’t react badly to her turning him down.

  “Why are you playing hard to get?” He moved until she was pressed up against one of the dressing tables. “Don’t be a tease, Lucy. We both know you’ll give in.”

  It was only Lucy’s castmate Gretchen coming into the dressing room that kept the situation from turning into something worse. Glen stood up, muttered some excuse, and left the room before either Lucy or Gretchen could say anything. But Gretchen, older than Lucy and hardened by this work, saw the look on her face and had demanded to know what had happened.

  Lucy had struggled to find work after that. Glen had blackballed her as much as he could, taking her rejection as a slight against him. Depressed and anxious, Lucy had almost given up acting entirely because everything had seemed so pointless. It was only her agent getting her the gig for The Last Goodbye that had stopped her from packing up her things and returning home to Fair Haven, Washington.

  Her thoughts turned to Hayden’s accusations toward Carter. Had he really harassed his ex-girlfriend and cheated on her? But why would Hayden lie about something like that? Her stomach turned thinking about it.

  The only good thing was that she and Carter had called off this deal between them. But for whatever reason, she didn’t find that thought as comforting as she should. More than that, she wanted a reason to believe that Carter was innocent. That the man who she couldn’t stop thinking about was decent and good, even if he was obnoxious and arrogant and sexy and guarded and he had dimples when he smiled—

  A knock on Lucy’s trailer door made her jump. “Lucy,” said Erin through the door, “we need to get to set!”

  Lucy pushed her whirling thoughts aside. At least she knew how to act like nothing was bothering her.

  “I don’t know what you want from me!” cried Lucy-as-Miranda. She threw her hands up in defeat. “You tell me one thing and do another. Why can’t you leave me alone?”

  Hayden-as-Malcolm stalked toward Miranda, growling low in his throat. “Why do you think? Because I’m fucking in love with you, that’s why!”

  Carter stood on set and watched the scene, arms crossed. He didn’t normally watch filming, but when he’d heard that the penultimate scene was filming today, his curiosity had gotten the better of him. Besides, he liked watching Lucy work. She transformed completely, and when she acted, he almost forgot she was his little spitfire instead of Miranda.

  She’s not your anything, he reminded himself. Yes, she’d made that more than clear that day at the beach. Besides, she’d gotten what she wanted. Carter had lost the bet—or deal, whatever you wanted to call it—and Lucy had won. That was how the cookie had crumbled.

  Okay, maybe he wasn’t so resigned to the idea of Lucy and Hayden together. He’d loved imagining Hayden pissing himself when Carter stole the woman he wanted, like Hayden had done to Carter. It was petty, but sometimes all a guy had was pettiness and spite to fuel him through the day.

  Hayden-as-Malcolm embraced Lucy-as-Miranda and kissed her, open-mouthed and deep. Miranda clung to Hayden’s shoulder like her knees were wobbly, and Carter couldn’t help but wonder if she was just acting or was really as into the kiss as she seemed.

  Why was he doing this to himself? He obviously needed to get laid. He’d go to some bar tonight and find a willing woman or two. If he could get rid of this obsession with Lucy, he wouldn’t give two shits who she decided to screw.

  During a break, Carter was talking to Pamela when Hayden joined the conversation. Soon, it was just Hayden and Carter, and Carter wasn’t about to be the first one to scamper away.

  Lucy was talking with one of her castmates, her smile wide as she laughed. Carter’s stomach clenched.

  “She’s something, isn’t she?” remarked Hayden. “She’s been great to work with.”

  “Congratulations,” said Carter, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

  “She’s still new enough that she hasn’t let this industry make her bitter. I’ve met too many actresses who have aged ten years in six months from the bullshit they put us through.” Hayden chuckled, although Carter didn’t know what was funny about that remark. “Lucy, though—she’s fresh. Innocent. It’s alluring.”

  Carter snorted. “This sounds like shit you should write in your diary.”

  “I want her,” said Hayden. “Is she yours or not?”

  Carter stared at Hayden. What the hell kind of game was he playing? “Since when do you ask for permission?” Because Hayden hadn’t cared that Rosie was Carter’s girlfriend when he’d swooped in and stolen her from him.

  “This time I’m asking: what’s Lucy to you?”

  Carter watched Lucy’s hands move as she talked. He’d always heard some people described as “lighting up the room,” but Lucy didn’t just light it up: she illuminated every nook and cranny. She was light bottled in a woman’s body. He’d never met anyone like her.

  And if she wanted Hayden Masterson, Carter wasn’t going to stand in the way any longer. Besides, he should let her go. She’d hate him if she ever found out he’d made this bargain with her only to fuck with Hayden.

  “Us? There is no us,” said Carter finally. “We weren’t doing anything but having a good time, if that’s what you want to know.”

  Hayden grinned. “Excellent.” He slapped Carter on the back like they were old pals. “Thanks, man.”

  Carter didn’t stay to watch the rest of the filming. He drove straight to Murphy’s, the one dive bar on the entire island, and started working on getting totally hammered.

  Chapter Eleven

  Carter picked up his glass, only to realize that it was already empty. How many drinks had he had? He’d lost count. To his immense irritation, he was only vaguely buzzed. It was just his luck that he couldn’t get drunk off his ass like he wanted to.

  He was considering whether or not he wanted to go back to his room and sleep or get
another beer when a woman sat down next to him at the bar, wearing a skimpy top and even shorter skirt. The woman’s breasts were close to spilling from her top if she moved too quickly. She smiled flirtatiously at Carter, her lips bright pink and pouting.

  “You’re that ballplayer, aren’t you?” she said, a slight drawl to her words. “Basketball, right?”

  Carter couldn’t help but stare at her breasts: he was human and male, after all. She certainly had enough of them to get the attention of any straight male in this greasy little dive bar.

  “Close,” said Carter. “Baseball.”

  “Oh, even better. The way you guys handle those balls…” She fluttered her eyelashes.

  Carter almost choked. He waved at the bartender and said in a croaking voice, “Another beer. And something for my friend here.”

  “Whiskey sour.” The woman turned on the stool until she faced Carter. “I’m Kelly, by the way.”

  “Carter.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh, I know who you are now. I’d heard you were in town, but I didn’t believe it. What’s a big star pitcher like you doing in tiny ole Hazel Island? Are you on vacation?”

  “Worse: I’m working.”

  “On baseball?”

  He chuckled darkly. “No, I’m benched. You didn’t hear that part, darlin’? No, I’m working on this movie that’s been filming.”

  “I got Hayden Masterson’s autograph the other day.” Kelly sighed happily. “That man could seduce a nun if he wanted to.”

  The reminder of Hayden’s seduction skills soured Carter’s mood further. Normally he’d at least be interested in any woman throwing herself at him, but tonight he felt like he was pulling out his own teeth to give a shit. And that annoyed him further, because he knew the reason why he was so distracted.

  His little spitfire wasn’t going to ruin his evening more than she already had. Forcing her out of his mind, he gave Kelly his most winning smile.

  “Did you come sit by me just to talk about another man?” He cocked an eyebrow.

  Kelly giggled. “No, of course not. Hayden has nothing on you.” She took in his appearance, licking her lips. “He’s not near so…big as you.”

  She wasn’t subtle, that was for sure, but Carter didn’t have time for subtlety. He wasn’t going to turn an attractive woman away because she was giving off signals like a lighthouse in a storm.

  “I’m surprised he let you get away from him.” Carter’s gaze went to her cleavage and then slowly traveled back to her face. “I wouldn’t have, you know.”

  “I know you wouldn’t have. That’s why I’m sitting here right now.” She brushed her foot against his leg and sipped her whiskey sour in obvious invitation.

  Carter’s body responded to Kelly’s cues, but halfheartedly, as if it felt compelled to respond against its better judgment. Carter wondered if he’d simply drunk too much tonight. Pushing his beer away, he asked for a glass of water and some fries to share with Kelly. Maybe if he sobered up a bit, he’d get back to how he usually was.

  But as he and Kelly chatted and flirted, munching on French fries, Carter’s interest in her only waned. It kept decreasing with every giggle, every hair flip, and every brush of her foot against his leg. When she leaned over his arm to reach the last of the fries, her breasts on full display, the only thing he felt was bored.

  Bored. Breasts bored him now. He needed to get his shit together already.

  “You ready to go?” said Carter abruptly after he paid his tab.

  Kelly raised her eyebrows but just smiled. “Sure. You staying close by? Otherwise we could go to my place. It’s only a few miles from here.”

  The last thing he needed was to run into Lucy. “Let’s go to your place.”

  Carter was sober enough now that he offered to drive. When he was about to open the passenger door for Kelly, she wrapped herself around him and kissed him.

  Carter’s body stirred—finally. He deepened the kiss, running his hands down her torso, her breasts crushed against his chest. She made little mewling sounds in her throat. It sounded like a kitten drowning, if he was honest.

  That stirring? It deflated. Completely. It didn’t help that Kelly kept wiggling and moaning, like she was about to orgasm right there in the street.

  Then he had the worst thought of all: I can’t do this.

  “You know what?” he said. “Not tonight.”

  “I can drive, if you’re worried about that,” she purred.

  “Not tonight.” He was firmer now, gently pushing her hands away from his belt buckle. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Hurt crossed her face, but she masked it quickly. Then she shrugged. “I can walk myself. Enjoy your night.”

  Carter knew very well that he wasn’t going to enjoy anything tonight. He was confused, tired, and pissed off. And he wished he hadn’t sobered up because right then he wanted to be rip-roaring drunk.

  He stopped at a liquor store and bought a nice bottle of scotch. Once he arrived back at the bed-and-breakfast, he didn’t even change his clothes before he popped the bottle open.

  Lucy. Lucy Lucy Lucy, his mind kept repeating. He saw her eyes when he’d kissed her; he felt how she’d responded to his touch. He saw how she’d kissed Hayden today while filming, knowing that she’d been acting but not remotely convinced she had been.

  How had one little spitfire ruined him for other women? Aching at the thought of kissing her again, his cock hard when it hadn’t been with Kelly, he drank through the night in the hopes that he could extinguish whatever this was inside of him.

  When Lucy stepped into the entrance of the bed-and-breakfast, she was breathless and flushed. She looked around, hoping she could slip up to her room without anyone noticing her.

  No such luck.

  Gwen stepped out from the meeting room, took one look at Lucy, and said, “What did you do?”

  “Nothing!” Even to Lucy’s ears, her voice was shrill.

  Gwen pointed to the kitchen. “Get in there and tell me what’s up before I beat it out of you.”

  Lucy didn’t put up much of a protest, mostly because she knew that she’d get some cookies leftover from this morning to munch on. While Gwen put a kettle on to boil—the kitchen about one and a half times the size of a normal kitchen—Lucy fiddled with the hair tie she’d put on her wrist.

  Gwen set two cups of tea down and a plate of peanut butter cookies, Lucy’s favorite. As Lucy reached for one, though, Gwen pulled the plate back.

  “Spill, woman. I don’t make tea for free.”

  “God, you’re mean.” Lucy grabbed a cookie and then blurted, “Hayden asked me out.”

  Gwen stilled, her eyebrows practically near her hairline. Lucy hadn’t told her about her conversation with Carter after he’d hurt his shoulder at the beach, mostly because Lucy hadn’t yet figured out how she felt about it.

  After filming today, Hayden had been so charming, so flirtatious, that when he’d asked her to go out to dinner on Saturday, Lucy hadn’t been able to find an excuse to say no. And why should she? Hayden Masterson had asked her out. It was every girl’s dream come true. It was her dream come true, yet she was still waiting to feel that sense of elation.

  “You don’t sound very excited about it,” said Gwen as she bit into a cookie. “Did you say yes?”

  Lucy nodded. “Who would say no to a date with a guy like Hayden?”

  “Well, somebody who was into another guy might.”

  Her heart pounding like crazy, Lucy hoped that Gwen couldn’t see how red her cheeks had gotten in the dim light. “I’ve had a crush on Hayden for a year.”

  “So? Feelings change. And you met him, what, once? You didn’t know him. You wanted to get to know him, but that’s not the same thing.”

  It sounded so simple when Gwen said it, but it wasn’t that simple. Lucy had felt a connection with Hayden, and obviously he felt the same thing since he’d asked her out.

  “Look, I’m the last person who anyone should go to for adv
ice on romance,” said Gwen wryly. “I’m a divorcee and I hate dating. I haven’t been on a date in almost a year at this point. That being said, don’t deny what you’re feeling because you think your feelings should fit into one box and they don’t.”

  Lucy stared at the steam rising from her tea. She felt like a jigsaw puzzle that had become a jumbled mess of random pieces. She closed her eyes and forced herself to take a deep breath.

  “I don’t know what I want,” she finally said truthfully.

  “That’s okay. We’ve all been there. But if you can’t be honest with yourself, you can’t be honest with a partner.” Gwen gazed off into the distance, like she was remembering something. Her gaze grew shuttered.

  “Is that what happened to you? Why you got divorced?” Lucy knew she was treading on a sensitive subject, but she couldn’t help her curiosity. She and Gwen had gotten close these past few weeks, but Gwen had yet to volunteer even this much information about her marriage.

  Gwen’s mouth twisted. “You could say it was. Or really, I wasn’t what he wanted me to be.” She fell silent and pensive.

  Lucy, not wanting to be alone, changed the subject, and soon she and Gwen were chatting into the night. They finished off the cookies, had another cup of tea each, and finally called it a night when they both couldn’t stop yawning.

  Lucy headed upstairs to her room. The bed-and-breakfast was still, most everyone asleep in their beds. The place managed to feel both homey and up-to-date, with local artists’ works on the walls and the paint a cheerful buttercup. The place housed up to fifteen people at a time. Since there were more than fifteen people working on The Last Goodbye, the crew had to find lodging elsewhere or simply ride the ferry every day from the town across the water.

  A door opened down the hallway. To Lucy’s consternation, it was Carter, the last person she wanted to see.

  She tried to get inside her room before he stopped her, but she wasn’t fast enough. She still unlocked her door, but Carter stuck his foot in the doorway, stopping her from getting inside.