11. Aaron
ELEVEN
AARON
The sound of their giggling is so uncharacteristic of those two that it draws my attention from my script and onto their hunched forms. Alex’s ponytail sways and bobs as her head and shoulders shake with quiet laughter. Gemma’s hair looks less messy than usual and more like…Alex’s, I guess. Though physically, the two of them couldn’t look much more different. Gem’s all innocence with wide features and pale coloring, whereas Alex has got darker coloring and features; she looks adventurous and you just know there’s nothing innocent about that chick. But lately it’s like she’s rubbing off on Gemma. They’re spending so much more time together the past month or so, and I’m not sure I like it.
I strain my ears to hear what the fuck they’re laughing about, and Alex’s throaty rumble hits me first.
“I told you he was good.” I can visualize Alex’s smirk from that cat-got-the-canary tone in her voice.
“How did you even know?” Gemma’s voice is softer, sweeter, happier than I’ve heard her in a long while.
“Would you hate me if I said from personal experience?”
Gemma pulls back sharply from Alex and turns to look her dead in the eye with an incredulous expression before they both burst out laughing.
I’ll never understand women .
They bring their heads close together again and it’s a little harder to make out what they’re saying now that it’s through the laughter, but I’m pretty good at picking out Gem’s voice from all the way across a room if I need to, so I manage.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, but he was obviously way too nice for me, it was never going to last.” Another burst of giggles. Since when does Gem giggle? Or Alex? “Anyway, that was forever ago, when we were in Belfast together. But I’ve been saving him for you for about a year now. Since he got to Atlanta from LA. I knew you guys would be perfect.”
Bile surges up the back of my throat and I’ve had about enough of listening to their girl talk. And people say guys’ locker room talk is bad. Not even close to the shit girls say when they think no one is listening.
I force my attention back onto the script in my hand and begin practicing my upcoming monologue under my breath. I’ve got another two hours before the shot, and technically we’re all on a lunch break right now, but since I’ve been trying to spend a little less one-on-one time with Gem to spare Kayla’s sensitivities, it’s taking me a little longer to learn my lines than I’m used to. A few weeks ago, she would’ve been over here eating with me and helping me run these lines, not over there fucking off.
“How are you feeling?” Alex’s voice breaks through my concentration anyway, and my eyes seek Gemma out automatically, worry filling me.
What’s wrong with Gem? Why is Alex concerned about her?
I watch silently from my perch on the picnic table, homed in on her every word, breath practically bated to make sure she’s fine.
“Better, thanks.” Gemma rubs one hand over her abdomen.
I would assume she’s talking about cramps, but she’s like clockwork and her cycle shouldn’t be starting for another week or so yet. I have alerts set up in the calendar on my phone so I can prepare myself, and bring treats to fend her off on the worst days. It sounds psycho-stalker, I know, but trust me, it’s better if I’m prepared.
“You should be good now, yeah?”
“Yeah, the doctor said once the initial pain wore off, I shouldn’t feel any more discomfort, and it’s been okay lately.”
“The first time I got an IUD in I couldn’t fu—” But none of us get to hear what it was Alex didn’t get to do because I’ve apparently jumped up and am storming over to them, sputtering. Not even sure when that happened.
“An IUD, Gem? Really?” I’ve never considered what her preferred form of birth control might be, but aren’t those things dangerous? I saw a meme where one fell out of some chick on a bus, and I just hope Gem is being careful. An accidental pregnancy is the last thing she needs right now. The last thing I need in my life right now. My gaze runs up and down her frame, looking for evidence of I don’t know what. Whatever’s causing this bubbling in my gut, perhaps?
Two sets of eyes narrow and focus on my face, but I only stare back at one of them. The soft brown ones I’ve looked into almost every day of my life. The ones that have been a lot more closed off and distant lately when they’ve come my way, which—admittedly—has been a lot less frequent in recent weeks.
“This is your business…why?” The cold certainty in Gemma’s voice has me freezing in my tracks. That look on her face makes me want to rethink the words coming out of my mouth, but I’m not sure I can stop them if I tried. Something inside me snapped when I heard them casually discussing her sex life, and I can’t just sit by and listen to it.
“You are literally my business, Gemma,” I seethe.
“My reproductive system is not .”
Well, damn. She’s got me there.
“I don’t pay you to sit around and talk about your—” a shudder creeps out along my skin at the thought of the next words, “sex life. Save that shit for tea time at the cupcakery or whatever the fuck you two do when you hang out these days.”
Alex pops a bubble in her gum aggressively, likely her way of biting her tongue until Gem has had her say, and rolls her eyes.
“You don’t pay me at all right now, Stone. It’s lunch o’clock.”
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes—technically I pay her a salary, not hourly—and I open my mouth to make another comment, but Alex cuts me off.
“Jealous? Cause you can always come to tea time with us if Kayla isn’t filling that Gemma-sized hole in your life.” A sweet smile from her that is nothing but chilling—an assassin marking their target—and another pop of her bubble gum.
Apparently my self-preservation meter is broken. Nothing inside me stops my mouth from going too far.
“No, you know what? I’m tired of whatever thing you guys have going on. It’s like you just fuck off all the damn time, giggling and shit. You’re here to be my assistant, Gemma. So assist me.”
Gemma sighs and stands up from the top of the picnic table she’s been perched on. Alex looks ready to fight me on this, but Gemma holds up a hand to tell her she’s got this one and says something under her breath which makes Alex glare at me before walking away, shooting daggers at me while she saunters backward the entire way. If I looked closer, I’d prolly see two middle fingers pointed at me, but I don’t bother.
Alex is barely out of earshot before I’m going off on my best friend, and I don’t even know why, just that this unease deep in my gut needs to stop and this is the only thing I can think of to relieve that pressure. “Gem, I’m really happy you’re finally dating, but welcome to the real world, where every fucking person in existence dates, and we don’t all talk about it twenty-four-fucking-seven. Is it too much to ask that during work hours, you fucking work?”
She shoves her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, new ones by the looks of ’em. A lot tighter than what she usually wears. I wish I didn’t notice that the pose she’s in now makes her chest pop out, but this new fucking shirt she’s wearing is kind of demanding my attention at the moment, and that just pisses me off even more.
“What, so you’re mad that someone wants to talk to me instead of you for once? You’re better than that, kid. What is this actually about, Aaron? Hmm? Can you just say whatever it is that’s really got your panties in a fucking knot the last month so we can move past it? Or are you going to sulk forever?”
I bite my tongue for all of a quarter second before spitting out my response. “You know he’s only paying attention to you because you look…” My hand waves feverishly up and down in her general direction, pointing out all the changes that are obvious to me and anyone else who’s known her for more than a few weeks. “Different now.”
“Wow,” she breathes, in a voice that’s either sarcastic or genuinely wounded, I can’t tell which. “Thanks for believing in me, Aaron. Your faith in me and my finer qualities really means a lot.”
“I’m just saying. Don’t you think it’s interesting this guy only wants to date you now that you’re dressing like this ?”
She takes her hands out of her pockets and crosses her arms over her chest. “Actually, I’m finding it interesting that that’s what you’re chalking it up to. So again, thanks for believing in me, Aaron.” She takes a step away from me before turning back to face me once more. “This has been enlightening. And I think it might be time for you to get an assistant who actually assists you for a change. You know, since I apparently don’t. And maybe you can get one whose redeeming qualities go beyond their looks, in your eyes.”
My jaw would drop, but I’m too busy clenching it for all I’m worth, grinding my teeth as she tests my uncharacteristically thin patience. “All I meant was it’d be great if you spent a little less time gossiping with Alex and a little more time helping me get my lines down. Or staying on top of the tasks for the household. Or setting up Romania. Or anything that I fucking pay you to do, I’m really not picky.”
Her nostrils flare at that, and I realize this might be the first actual fight we’ve ever had. I’m used to seeing her go head to head for me, never with me, and I can’t say I like the way this feels. She tends to use her words carefully, like precision weapons, rather than just throwing out buckshot, hoping to hit something wherever it may land, like I do. If my wits were about me right now, I’d be a little more scared of where this is going.
Her head tilts to one side, her ponytail flopping over her shoulder with the movement. Her next words pierce my chest like the sharpest of Wolverine’s adamantium claws. “Nah, I think I’m good.”
“You’re…good?” I ask, incredulous.
“Yeah, I’m gonna stop distracting you from learning your lines. In fact, I’m going to stop fucking up all the things in your life, Aaron.” When I stare at her blankly, she continues. “Isn’t that what I’m doing? Not handling the house? Not handling Romania? Not handling every other aspect of your life?” The venom in her tone seeps into her expression, and I gulp. “I can’t wait to see how smooth it all is without me fucking it up. I’m done.” She does the mic drop motion like she’s Anna fucking Kendrick in Pitch Perfect or some shit and starts backing away, just like Alex had.
“This isn’t you, Gem. You’re not this girl.”
She pauses her steps. “How would you even know, kid? We don’t even talk to each other anymore.”
“Shut the fuck up. I know you, Gem. Better than anyone.”
“Maybe you used to. But I’m pretty sure I don’t know you anymore, either. Because my best friend would never say the shit that just poured out of your fucking mouth.”
Here’s the thing. I know she’s right. I know this entire conversation has been one big dumpster fire. But I can’t explain what’s going on inside of me right now. I just know there’s more that wants to come out of me, and I’m not strong enough to stop it. So I don’t even try.
“What are you going to do without me, huh?”
For the first time in weeks, probably since before she got with this new guy, I see her visibly contract, her shoulders shrinking in on herself, and I know she knows I’m right.
“You’ve got nothing outside of this life, Gem. Don’t do this. Take the day, cool off, and come back to work. We’ll get past this. It’s a bad day for both of us.”
And then her shoulders square. She gets a few inches taller, and somehow looks way fucking bigger and fiercer.
“I had nothing outside of this life, Aaron. Now I have nothing in it.”
Her words hit me harder than any stunt coordinator ever has, but she isn’t done talking.
“Consider this my resignation. I’d turn in my keys, but, well, I guess I already did that.” Her face lights up, she digs into her pocket anyway and comes up with the second fob to my Mercedes. “Oh wait, here’s your car key. For the next person who tries to assist you. Or maybe just keep it so you don’t have to lie to your girlfriend anymore.”
I shouldn’t be surprised she figured out I’d hidden that particular tidbit from Kayla when I told her I’d gotten my house key back from Gemma. But in my defense, it would make it a lot harder on both of us for her to do her job if she didn’t keep the spare key to my car. Just like it did for the house.
“Don’t do this.” Even I’m surprised at how frail the words come out, but I don’t trust anything I’m saying right now. My own voice betrayed me in the past five minutes, and I don’t want it doing anything else stupid on me right now. But she’s paying me and my plea no heed.
“Consider it done. Consider us done. I’m out.” She makes a peace sign and she’s gone. And I’m pretty sure she’s not coming back.