Just Like in the Movies

by Heidi Rice

  ‘And you broke them.’ Jack let out a laugh. ‘Awesome. So what does you breaking into a Royal Park have to do with the British chick and the movie theatre?’ Jack added, getting straight to the point.

  ‘I was required to do community service at the theatre. Three hundred hours. So I decided to take a break from Mom and relocate to London for six weeks to get it done. The Royale used to belong to our Uncle Matty. He left me half of it in his will. And the other half to a British chick whose name is Ruby. Ruby Graham …’ He paused. Why was it so damn hard to say her name? Would it always be this hard? ‘Anyway, the theatre needed a lot of work. It was kind of run down.’

  ‘Hold up. Uncle Matty? You mean Mom’s long-lost brother she doesn’t speak to? He died?’

  ‘Yes, he died Jack, months ago. How do you not know this?’ Exactly how clueless was his brother about family affairs? And why did Jack’s cavalier approach to life seem even less charming all of a sudden?

  ‘I guess Mom must have mentioned it in one of her texts,’ Jack said, still clueless.

  ‘Ya think?’ Luke said, his tone cutting.

  ‘Damn, now I feel bad for never reading her texts,’ he said, not sounding that cut up about his complete inability to pay attention. ‘But those things are like novels,’ he added, as if that was an excuse. Jack really was a self-centred asshole – why had he never noticed that before? ‘But anyway, so you own half the theatre now? And the British chick owns the other half.’

  ‘The British chick has a name. It’s Ruby.’

  ‘Is Ruby hot?’

  It was Luke’s turn to choke on his beer. He slapped the glass down on the table. ‘That’s a dumb sexist question.’

  ‘Uh-huh? You’re blushing again. So I’m going to take that as a yes.’ Jack’s gaze narrowed and Luke’s non-blush ignited. ‘Damn, you hooked up with her, didn’t you?’

  He could have lied, he wanted to lie. Whatever he’d had with Ruby was over.

  I love you, Luke.

  The simple words echoed in his head again. Crushing his ribcage a little bit more.

  Totally over.

  Talking about the affair with Jack was not going to change that. But somehow the denial wouldn’t come out of his mouth. So he sat dumbly in front of Jack as his face incinerated.

  ‘Yeah, we hooked up. But it wasn’t a big deal …’ The words clogged his throat. ‘And the theatre is being sold to pay off Uncle Matty’s debts, so we don’t own it anymore.’

  Being sold off in approximately twenty hours’ time, if the timetable Jacie had given him a week ago was still true.

  Get over it. She didn’t want your help. She said so. You don’t love her. End of.

  ‘You were into her, weren’t you?’ Jack said, the non sequitur throwing Luke off course.

  ‘Yeah.’ Why lie about it? ‘She was a nice lady. Smart, compassionate, creative, funny …’ He took a swallow of beer – why did that description sound so inadequate. ‘And yeah, she was hot.’ So hot. Hot enough to haunt his dreams every night since he’d left her.

  ‘That sounds like a heck of a lot more than nice.’

  Luke glared at his brother. So now Jack was intuitive? Give me damn break. ‘It doesn’t really matter whether or not she was nice or more than nice because it’s over.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it is – because it was – just a casual hook-up.’

  For me, at least. I never lied to her.

  ‘It doesn’t sound casual to me,’ Jack said. ‘The woman made you blush, that’s got to be a first.’

  ‘Whatever, it was never gonna work long term.’ He took another long swallow of his beer, his throat so dry he could probably sandpaper a wall with it.

  ‘Why not?’ Jack asked.

  Luke intensified his glare. Why wouldn’t Jack drop this? Couldn’t he see he did not want to talk about it? ‘Because she’s a nice person and I’m not.’

  ‘Bullshit.’ Jack’s forceful reply gave Luke pause. His brother wasn’t smiling anymore.

  ‘She needs someone who can settle down,’ he replied. ‘Who wants to settle down. Who can commit to a long-term relationship. Who wants to commit to a long-term relationship. That’s not me, I’m not the settling down type.’

  Ruby had got that much at least. She would never even have told him she loved him if he hadn’t made the dumb decision to go back for Babs and Bob night.

  ‘Are you actually serious right now?’ Jack replied.

  ‘Of course I’m serious,’ Luke said, shocked by the look on Jack’s face, because all traces of his usual super-relaxed, couldn’t-give-a-shit charm had disappeared.

  ‘Luke, you’re the most settled person I know,’ his brother said, sounding more serious than a traffic accident for the first time in his life. ‘You live for fucking commitment. Or you wouldn’t have been riding herd on me and Becca ever since we were born … And Mom ever since you were born.’

  ‘That’s not the same. You guys are family, I’m stuck with you.’

  ‘You mean like your old man was stuck with us. Like mine was? Like Becca’s father was?’ Jack’s voice had an edge to it Luke had never heard before. This wasn’t the Jack he knew, not at all. This Jack sounded angry. And also weirdly supportive.

  ‘What are you trying to say?’ he said, feeling like he was seeing the real Jack for the first time in his life. Where had this guy been hiding? And why?

  ‘They all bailed on us, in their own way,’ Jack said, his expression tense. ‘The men who should have cared about us and kept us safe and put us first. But you never did. Not even when you could have. Even when it was never your responsibility. You shouldered it anyway. Getting me to do my homework and not hang out with the wrong kids, getting Becca to brush her teeth each night and letting her cling on to you when she came back from her dad’s place, and keeping Mom afloat when she had one of her wild moods.’

  ‘You were just a kid, you needed someone to guide you and we all knew that wasn’t gonna be Mom,’ he said. ‘Becca’s dad was an alcoholic and a massive dick, she should never have had to spend summers with him in the first place. And Mom had issues, you know that,’ he said, in his defence, disconcerted to hear Jack of all people talk about him in this way. Jack has always hated it when Luke told him what to do, or how to do it. His kid brother had rebelled against every rule, every suggestion, every offer of help. Had he admired him all along? Because that was so messed up he didn’t even know what to do with it. It would change the whole dynamic of their sibling relationship and he wasn’t ready to deal with that right now.

  Not after Ruby.

  ‘You were a kid too, Luke. You’re only three years older than I am,’ Jack said, finally winding down. ‘And Mom’s issues weren’t your problem, but you took them on. So don’t tell me you’re not the settling down type. You are. You always have been. And you want to know why?’

  Luke just stared, not sure if he did or didn’t want the answer. Getting relationship advice from his kid brother had to be a low point in his life. The fact the advice was actually making some sense made it even lower.

  ‘Tough shit, because I’m gonna tell you anyway,’ Jack said, taking the choice away from him. ‘You’re the settling down type not because you had to be, but because you’re good at it. And you like it, or you wouldn’t have spent the last ten years making a killing building other people homes. You say this Ruby chick is smart and creative and compassionate and funny? Well, you’re all those things too.’ Jack gave him a deliberate once over. ‘I don’t find you hot, but I guess it’s not outside the realms of possibility she might think you are. Women can be screwy like that or they wouldn’t get crushes on douchebags like Ross Barlett.’

  ‘Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter anymore because it’s over,’ he said, suddenly feeling defeated. ‘I left and Ruby decided to sell the theatre rather than take my money to save it, so I think we can safely say she was not that into me.’

  It was a lie, because Ruby had been pretty into him. But her being in
love with him didn’t change anything. Not if he couldn’t love her back. Ruby got that, and she was a hopeless romantic, so it was a lie he could live with.

  ‘You offered her money to save the theatre?’ Jack asked.

  ‘That’s what I just said isn’t it?’

  ‘I guess you can add pride to your list of her good qualities then. And self-respect.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Come on, Luke, would you have taken your money? To save something that means so much to you?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have said no. That’s just dumb. She’s gotta close the theatre now and sell it, just because she didn’t want my help.’

  ‘You don’t get it, do you?’

  ‘Get what?’

  ‘How could she accept your money if she loved you?’

  ‘How did you know that?’ Luke blurted out, so shocked Jack had figured it out he felt like he’d just leapt into a parallel universe.

  ‘She told you she loved you, then,’ Jack said, but it wasn’t really a question, as his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line, and Luke said nothing.

  ‘And I’m guessing you didn’t say the same to her,’ his brother said, reading his mind again.

  ‘No,’ Luke managed at last.

  Jack took a long draft of his beer. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I don’t love her, obviously,’ Luke snapped.

  ‘You sure about that?’ Jack said, only pissing him off more.

  ‘Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be sure? I’d know if I was in love or not, wouldn’t I?’ Luke said.

  Why was he having to argue with his brother about this? And why was having to think about what he had, or rather hadn’t, said to Ruby, turning the weight in his gut into a super nova?

  ‘Would you? Because you’ve always been real good at avoiding those conversations.’

  ‘What conversations?’

  ‘The ones where people talk about their feelings.’

  ‘Uh-huh. Since when do you like talking about feelings?’ he asked. Getting relationship advice from Jack was bad enough, being told he should talk about his feelings was just plain wrong. If there was ever a guy who didn’t talk about his feelings it was Jack. Except now, for some whacked out reason he couldn’t figure.

  ‘Since never,’ Jack conceded. ‘But we’re not talking about me. This is about you and Ruby Graham, who is smart and funny and compassionate and super-hot and loves you. And who you’ve talked about more than I’ve ever heard you talk about any woman you’ve ever dated. Even that super model you were hooking up with on a regular basis for two years.’

  ‘Fuck …’ The beer started to bubble in his belly, his throat felt raw and achy and he wasn’t going down with anything.

  Was Jack right? Why hadn’t he even been able to have the conversation with Ruby? Why had he let her tell him he didn’t love her. He cared about her, but what if this was more than that, and he hadn’t even asked himself how much more? Had he blown it? How did he really feel about her? Did he want to go back to London? To figure it out?

  Yes, I damn well do.

  And how could he let her lose The Royale when the reason she was selling the place was nothing to do with the theatre, but simply because she didn’t want to leave him beholden to her?

  ‘Fuck and double fuck. She’s selling the place. Signing the papers tomorrow morning, the final screening is tonight.’ He leapt out of his chair and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, then checked his watch. ‘I’ve got to get back to London, talk to Mom, and then get to The Royale before the final screening finishes.’

  ‘Hey, what about our bar crawl through Paris?’ Jack asked, but he was grinning.

  ‘We’ll have to take a rain check.’ Leaning over the table he grabbed Jack by the cheeks and planted a smacker on his brother’s lips. ‘Thanks, bro. For once, I think you actually might be talking sense.’

  Jack laughed as he scrubbed his lips with the back of his hand. ‘I always talk sense – you just don’t listen.’

  Luke whipped his jacket off the back of his chair.

  ‘What’s the final show?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Last of the Mohicans,’ he murmured, as he clicked through the apps on his phone to book a ticket on the next Eurostar train. ‘It’s the last film in the Matty’s Classics season, apparently it was one of our uncle’s favourite movies.’

  ‘Sounds like the guy had great taste,’ Jack said. ‘I loved that movie as a kid. All the running and shooting and shit – although it’s kind of a downer, doesn’t everyone end up dead?’

  ‘Not everyone …’ He clicked the pay now button, then tucked the phone back into his jacket pocket. ‘Not this time. I’ll see you around Jack, keep in touch.’

  Jack saluted him as he turned to dash off, then shouted. ‘Go for it Hawkeye, go save your girl, before she saves herself.’

  ***

  ‘Hi, I’m trying to locate Helena Devlin’s dressing room.’ Four hours later, Luke stopped a young man laden with an armful of evening gowns in dry-cleaner bags in the busy backstage area behind the Cottosloe’s stage.

  The guy stopped, then did a double-take.

  ‘I’m her son,’ Luke added, although from the young man’s heightened colour he suspected the information was unnecessary.

  ‘Oh my, yes you are,’ the dresser said with a purr that could mean only one thing. He was a Falcone nut. ‘Wow, you really are the spit of him, aren’t you?’

  For once, Luke didn’t find the provocative stare or the unfiltered comments uncomfortable. He’d figure out why that was later, much later. He had to talk to his mom about saving The Royale before he saw Ruby. And while that should be fairly straightforward, getting his mother to cooperate was never a walk in the park.

  ‘I can’t imagine why Hell on Wheels ever tried to deny it,’ the guy said.

  Hell on Wheels? Was that what the backstage crew called his mom?

  Luke would have laughed, if his guts weren’t tied in knots.

  ‘Me, either,’ Luke said.

  As soon as the words came out of his mouth, it occurred to him, it was the first time he’d ever acknowledged his relation to Falcone to someone he wasn’t closely related to … or Ruby. He tensed, bracing for a backlash. But the guy just grinned, as if they were sharing a particularly naughty joke.

  Hell, maybe they were. Why had he always been so scared to talk about his father? His mom had always refused to talk about Falcone to the press when he was a kid, and now he knew the reason why was much more complex than he’d ever thought. She hadn’t done it to be coy, or stoke the gossip, but because she’d always been conflicted, maybe even ashamed, about having a child with the man her brother had loved. But he could have owned the truth about his parentage himself as an adult. And he never had.

  ‘Mind you, Helena is nothing if not capricious, right?’ the young man said, sending Luke a conspiratorial wink. Juggling the garments in his arms, he pointed towards a hallway at the back of the stage area. ‘Her dressing room is that way. You can’t miss it. It’s got a star on the door the size of a small planet.’ Giving Luke a wave he rushed off in the opposite direction.

  Luke headed towards the dressing room feeling weirdly deflated by the encounter.

  Jesus, he’d been kind of a jerk about his old man. And the Falcone nuts.

  What was so terrible about being Falcone’s son? And dealing with his battalion of fans? After all, Ruby had been one of them. If it weren’t for this face – his father’s face – she might never have wanted him. So when he thought about it that way, he had quite a lot to thank the guy for.

  He reached a door at the end of a corridor with a large gold star on it. Scribbled underneath on a chalk board in his mother’s handwriting were the words:

  Helena Devlin aka Hell on Wheels.

  Do Not Disturb unless you’re bearing gifts or uncritical adoration. Preferably both.

  Both was underlined twice.

  So his mom had embraced her nickname – possibly e
ven coined it.

  He tapped his knuckles above the star, oddly charmed by the sign. How come he had never realized his mom had a sense of humour about her diva-ishness?

  Perhaps because he’d never had a sense of humour about it himself.

  ‘Danny, if that’s you run away and get us both a quick curtain-up mimosa, I’m gasping, sweetheart. And beg Megan for a new pair of stockings but don’t tell her I’ve laddered another pair though or she’ll probably chop my legs off.’

  His mother’s voice rang through the door, rich and fluid, professional and yet full of affection. He’d always known she loved the sound of her own voice – funny that he’d never realized he liked the sound of it quite a lot, too.

  He opened the door to find her sitting at a dressing table laden with powders and perfumes and a host of other potions, the traditional light bulbs surrounded the mirror’s frame. The room was small for a diva, crammed with rails full of clothing, a day bed, a spray of potted plants and flowers and a huge basket of cellophane wrapped fruit. It looked like a thousand other dressing rooms he’d visited her in over the years.

  But for the first time, instead of feeling tense and on edge, the knots of stress in his stomach relaxed.

  She glanced round, her hair tied back in a wig net, her face covered in the sculptured foundation she used to make her look a least ten years younger than she actually was.

  ‘Luke? You came to see the show again, how marvellous.’

  She bounced off the chair and crossed the room to give him a hug.

  She enveloped him with her signature perfume and he took a deep breath in, for once appreciating the exotic scent of wild flowers and patchouli.

  ‘Hi, Mom,’ he said, having to clear his throat as she held him.

  She stepped back, holding his shoulders, and smiled a guileless smile of pure pleasure, that wasn’t faked. ‘I’m so pleased you’re here,’ she said, the genuine affection in her voice tearing at something inside him.

  He swallowed.

  Jesus, why was he suddenly choking up?

  ‘I can’t stay for the show, I came because I need your help with something.’