by Andrew Grey
“God, that sucked,” Meyer whispered.
I shook Greg’s hand and thanked him for coming. I wanted to apologize for Rachel’s behavior, because it wasn’t directed at him. She was angry at Meyer and me because we had been asked to return for the next season. I thought the producers should have kept their decisions to themselves until after this season was over, but they hadn’t agreed, and now it was open hostility. The only time it abated was when the chefs were present. At other times, it was all-out war on her part. What a minefield this was turning out to be.
Meyer thanked Greg as well, as Rachel stormed off.
“I need to talk to Ethan. Do you want to meet at the house?”
“Okay. But I need to stop at home and get Rosco. I’m not bringing him here any longer because of what happened to the trailer.” Hell, I was scared to spend any time in the thing. If someone was after me, then that was a target. Let Rachel take her venom out wherever she wanted, but I wasn’t going to put Rosco in the line of fire.
“We can go to your apartment.”
“Well, actually, I was going to ask if maybe I didn’t need the apartment any longer. It’s going to be just a few weeks, and then….” God, I was so nervous.
“Great idea. I’ll tell Ethan, and we can move your things to the house tonight. You can ride in with me in the mornings if you’d like.”
“No. Felix will drive us.” I stepped closer. “I’m not going to put him out of work, and the studio promised me a driver in the contract.” I grinned. “I like Felix. He’s a great guy, and he has a son with special needs.”
Meyer patted my shoulder. “Then we’ll ride in with Felix.” He pulled away and headed toward the office.
I wasn’t sure what to do with my time at the moment and headed to the trailer just in time to see Justin coming out.
“I put the new schedule on the table,” Justin explained as he passed me. “I relocked the door on my way out.”
I tried not to skip a step as the fact that Justin had keys dawned on me. Great, another thing to be afraid of. Had he had keys all the time, or had he gotten a set recently? Either way, I wasn’t exactly comfortable. I checked out the trailer and got the schedule, then found a quiet spot in the shade and breeze to read. Being cooped up was the last thing I wanted.
People hurried from place to place as I sat in the grass out in front of the production office. It was bustling, but no one paid me any attention. I reviewed the schedule and checked for hidden notes, relieved that there weren’t any.
After a while, I looked at my watch, because Meyer had been gone longer than I’d expected. The sun was setting, and I thought of calling Felix, but Meyer had said that he would come with me to help me gather my things. I stood and went inside. The office was quiet, and I rapped gently on Ethan’s door.
“When did Meyer leave?” I asked when he called for me to come in.
“Ten minutes ago,” Ethan answered. “He said there was something on the set that he needed.”
“Thanks.” I closed the door and hurried to the largely dark set, wondering where Meyer could be.
“I’ve had it with you and your little boyfriend. No one is going to replace me and get away with it.”
The venom in Rachel’s voice reverberated off the walls and filled me with dread. I walked slowly, trying desperately to make it across to the judging area where her voice originated. There was just enough light spilling in for me to see the big things, but I was scared and my legs shook as I drew closer.
“We had nothing to do with you leaving.” The fear in Meyer’s voice ran up my back like ice water. “And hurting me isn’t going to get your job back.”
“No, it isn’t. But no one paid any attention to the damned notes, and the two of you carried on like rabbits for weeks. And just when I had the proof… someone….”
The slap of metal on metal made me jump, and I moved faster.
“You were behind the notes?” Meyer said as I reached the dark area just out of the beam of light from the doorway. Rachel sat behind the desk with a gun pointed at Meyer.
“Of course I was. I even sent one to myself and had your little boyfriend find it. That was brilliant. He’s been looking at everyone on the crew with suspicion for weeks, and it was all I could do to keep from laughing at him.” She waved the gun and stood. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you.” She lowered the barrel of the gun toward Meyer’s legs. “But I do intend to make sure you and little Luke don’t take over for me next year.”
“What did we ever do to you?” Meyer asked, his hands in the air. I looked around to see if there was some sort of weapon, but I was a terrible aim with a soup pot. The chefs brought their own knives, so there were none in the kitchen that I could see.
“Come on. You both knew that I was going to be replaced, and you wormed your way in so easily. The producers were on the fence until you and your little gay geisha squeeze showed up. He cracked a damn joke about his cat, and I was Fancy Feast, just like that.” She slowly walked around the desk.
Man, I had read her all wrong this whole time. I’d thought she was my friend, but it was all an act. Rachel was one cold person. She had a gun on Meyer and, damn it all, she could shoot away the person I loved and who had just professed to love me. This witch was not going to take away the happiness that I had just found. No fucking way in hell.
“No. We were never told, not until today.” Meyer took a step back and pretty much disappeared from my line of sight.
I had to do something, because Rachel was unpredictable as hell. I moved away and found a rack of pots. I also found some kitchen string on one of the pantry shelves and tied one end to the top of the rack. I hoped to hell it held. Then I unwound it until I was back near the door and could see Rachel pacing like a caged tiger, front and back, nervously. I waited until she was closest to me and had turned around before pulling the string as hard as I could.
The clatter was deafening, and Rachel jumped and then bolted for the door. As soon as she approached, I leapt with everything I had and tackled her to the ground. She rolled and the gun went off, the sound nearly deafening me. I grabbed her hand and banged it on the floor until the gun clattered away, then held her down so she couldn’t move.
“Are you okay?” I breathed, lifting my gaze to Meyer.
“Yes. She didn’t hurt me.” He hurried over and kicked the gun farther away. “But….” He gasped, and I looked down.
I was covered in red, and damn, I did a quick inventory, but felt no wounds. “I think I’m okay.” I didn’t want to get up to see if she was hurt. “Turn on all the lights so we can see.” I kept her still, not really caring if Rachel had shot herself. The light came up, and soon the room filled with people, with Ethan leading the rescue party.
“Do you need an ambulance?” Ethan asked.
I shook my head, my gaze falling to a large can of tomatoes, the only casualty, the remains of which were all over me. “It’s tomato sauce,” I explained, and breathed a sigh of relief. “You stay where you are,” I told Rachel when she tried to get up, swearing and cursing, but I didn’t care.
“I called the police—they’re on their way,” Ethan said.
I stayed where I was until security arrived and took charge of the situation. When I stepped away, Meyer wrapped me in his arms. We both shook for a few seconds as the impact of what could have happened broke over us.
“Oh God. I don’t understand what she hoped to gain,” I whispered to Meyer.
“I think she just wanted to spread the hurt around and couldn’t see any future beyond the show.”
“That’s true. After her little dabble with a contestant, no one was going to hire her again. That must have been the last straw, and she just sort of snapped,” Ethan said.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “The news revelation sure knocked her legs out from under her. She tried to disgrace us and ended up hurting herself.” If she hadn’t started all of this, then her secret would have remained that way and everything woul
d have been fine. But she had to try to take matters into her own hands, and the only one who was truly hurt was herself. That was a little irony if I ever saw any.
The police arrived and peppered us with questions about everything that had happened. Thankfully, I was allowed to go clean up and change and then talk to the police. Once that was over, Ethan called us into his office for a discussion on how we were going to handle the rest of the season without Rachel. It seemed grass didn’t grow under anyone’s feet here in Hollywood.
“I’m going to work with the network to get another host for the season. I think we’ll need someone with some experience, and they can probably recommend someone who can step in,” Ethan explained. “The producers are in shock about all of this, but they agree that we need to move forward.”
I nodded and so did Meyer. “We only have three episodes to go.”
“Yes. There is no way we will be able to keep what happened out of the press. And we can’t start retaping the season from the beginning.” Ethan fidgeted as his nerves grew edgier. I just wanted to go home and try to get some sleep and get my head wrapped around all this. Meyer had to be in some state of shock, but the show would go on.
I leaned forward. “Can I make a suggestion? Can we take a few days’ break from shooting? Let everyone digest what happened. If you want, Meyer and I can handle the hosting duties between us. You’ve done episodes when Rachel wasn’t in them before, and between us we can probably handle it.”
“The producers are trying to figure out how to explain this.”
I shrugged. “I think on the actual show, we say nothing. The chefs aren’t going to ask, and we can explain to them that we want the show to be about them and their food and not Rachel and what happened. It’s less than ideal, but let’s keep the show’s focus on the food where it belongs and not on the antics that happened backstage.” I yawned. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything else in me today.” I took Meyer’s hand. “We can try to help any way we can in the morning.”
“All right… I…,” Ethan answered quickly, his words coming in short, nervous clips.
“You go home too. Get some rest. None of this is your fault, and you’ll be able to think better in the morning.” If he grew any more nervous, I was afraid Ethan was going to fly into a million pieces.
“Yeah. I think you’re right.” He pushed back from behind his desk and stood.
I got to my feet as well and half coaxed Meyer to his. I took a second to text Felix and ask him to pick us up, and I apologized for being so late. He messaged that he was on his way, and I was surprised to find part of the seat occupied when I slid into the car.
“This is Louis. My mother had to go to Bakersfield to visit my aunt.”
I smiled and sat next to his booster seat. “I’m Luke, and this is Meyer,” I said.
“Daddy drives you?” Louis asked. “You must be important to have a driver like Daddy.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. “I think it’s because I’m not from here and I need help finding my way.”
“Are you a chef?” Louis asked as Meyer closed the door.
“Louis, remember what I told you about sitting quietly for me,” Felix said.
“It’s okay, Felix,” I told him. “I’m not a chef, but Meyer is. He’s a really good one.” I turned to smile at Meyer. “He makes the best food.”
“Can he make tamales? Abuela makes good ones, most of the time.”
“Louis,” Felix said. “You know how Abuela would feel if she heard you.”
He rolled his eyes the way only a kid could. “I know, but sometimes I want macaroni and cheese.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “And last time her tamales were stinky.” He held his nose, and I couldn’t help laughing.
“I don’t make stinky tamales, but I do make lots of mac and cheese. Fancy kinds too,” Meyer said, leaning forward so he could see Louis around me. “And my tamales and enchiladas might give your grandmother’s a run for their money.” He leaned over a little farther. “But don’t tell her that.” Meyer winked, and Louis nodded as though he’d been entrusted with an important secret.
“Daddy, I’m hungry,” Louis pronounced.
“I know. We’ll get dinner once I drop off Mr. Luke and Mr. Meyer.”
I leaned forward. “Actually, neither of us has eaten, and it’s been a lousy day.” I tried not to sigh. “If you want to pull into an In-N-Out, that would be awesome.”
“Daddy!” Louis bounced a little in his seat. The braces on his legs certainly didn’t seem to hold Louis back.
“Are you sure it’s okay?” Felix asked.
“You bet.” I settled next to Meyer, taking his hand, pleased that Louis’s excitement dispelled some of the pall of the day. “Sometimes we all need a good burger and shake.”
“And french fries and chicken nuggets,” Louis added.
I leaned toward him. “You can have whatever you want.” I bet Rosco would have liked meeting Louis. Heck, he’d probably have ridden on his lap. I got a piece of paper out of my bag and wrote down the order for Meyer, Louis, and me, then handed it up to Felix, along with the money. “And get what you want.” I used my best “don’t argue with me” voice.
“But we need to wait until we get home to eat,” Felix cautioned.
“Why don’t you and Louis come up and eat with us? The food will get cold otherwise, and Louis can meet Rosco.” I turned to Louis. “I have a cat, and he loves attention.”
“Daddy!” Louis squealed, and I knew Felix didn’t stand a chance.
“Okay. But you have to be on your best behavior, and then we’re going home. You’ll have to go right to bed when we get home because you have school tomorrow and Abuela will be mad if you don’t get up in the morning.”
“I will, Daddy,” Louis promised, but somehow I figured he was going to be too wound up to actually sleep. “Is Mr. Luke a movie star?”
“I judge a cooking contest on TV,” I told him. “I’m also a graphic designer. I help people with their web pages and things like that.” I figured I’d leave out the blogging stuff. “I’m never going to be a movie star.”
Louis shrugged. “That’s okay. I’m not going to be a movie star either. They don’t put kids with metal legs in the movies.” He said it as though it was a fact.
“Do you want to be in the movies? I bet you could do it, metal legs or not.” I had to smile, because regardless of what he said, Louis’s grin never faltered. It was like he knew what his world was and was happy in it. What most of us wouldn’t give for that feeling.
“I can?” He seemed entranced.
“Of course you can. You can do anything you want to.” I patted his arm. “Right, Meyer?”
Meyer leaned forward. “When I was your age, I wanted to help my mom in the kitchen. My dad didn’t like it because he said kitchen work was for women. My dad is kind of old-fashioned and maybe a little stupid.” I had never heard Meyer say anything against his family. He had always just accepted them before.
“I help Abuela all the time,” Louis said. “I like to cook. It’s fun.”
“That’s what I thought too. So I grew up to be a chef, and I’m on TV and I have four restaurants.” Meyer nudged my shoulder. “That we need to visit just as soon as the show is over.”
I nodded my agreement.
“I love to cook. So don’t let anyone tell you what you can’t do, because you can do anything.”
“I wanna be a chef, Daddy,” Louis pronounced.
“Mr. Meyer is right. You can be anything you want.”
Dang, I thought I might have heard a hitch in Felix’s voice. He turned into the drive-through and placed the order, then pulled up, got all the food, and handed the bag into the back seat. I gave Louis his order of french fries, and he giggled when I put my finger to my lips.
“You can’t make a mess, or you’ll get me in trouble with your daddy.” I winked and heard Felix chuckle. Louis ate with a grin on his lips, finishing the entire order before we pulled up to
the building.
After Felix parked, I carried in the food and my bag, Meyer held the doors, and Louis used his forearm crutches to get into the building and up in the elevator. I didn’t say anything and did my best not to meet Felix’s gaze, because I figured he’d feel the need to explain, but he didn’t have to.
Inside, I sat everyone at the table, and we ate like conquering hordes. When he was done, Louis played with Rosco on the sofa. Sometimes my cat acted like a damned dog, especially when he played his own version of fetch.
“He’s wonderful,” Meyer said we finished eating.
“Louis is my biggest mistake and the greatest joy in my life. It’s why I do what I do. He deserves the best life I can get for him.” Felix finished his burger and stood. The living room had grown quiet, and when I turned, Louis was asleep, his head on one of the pillows, with Rosco curled in a ball right next to him. “I should get him home.”
“Thanks.” I turned to Meyer. We had planned to move my things to his place, but that wasn’t a huge priority at the moment. “Tomorrow Meyer is going to give me a ride home from the studio, and then I’m going to stay with him for the rest of the trip. So the following day, you can pick us both up for the studio at his house, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” Felix lifted Louis, who curled his arms around his daddy’s neck.
I opened the door and whispered good night as Felix carried both Louis and his crutches out.
“Thank you. You made his night.”
“I’m glad.” I closed the door and collapsed on the sofa. “What next?”
Meyer sat next to me. “I sure as hell don’t know. Maybe the soundstage ceiling will fall in. Godzilla could rise out of the ocean and eat the city. You and I could become parents.” He laughed, and I sat back.
“Have you ever thought about having kids?” I asked, and Meyer stilled and nodded.
“Yeah. I want kids.” He grew quiet again. “I had no idea that bitch was on the stage. I got a message that I had left some papers on the set, and when I went to get them, there she was. Scared the shit out of me.” He wrapped his arms around his chest like he was hugging himself. I leaned closer, but Meyer shook his head. “She pulled a gun on me, and I thought she was going to kill me.”