Chapter 9
Does Austin have a secret romance?
All I can do is stare at the spot where Harvey’s head went under.
I lean over the side of the canoe. “What the hell are you doing, you idiot?”
I watch the water, expecting him to resurface, but he doesn’t. I wait a few seconds, then turn, searching behind me. I scan the other side of the canoe. I look every which way, but I don’t see him.
“Harvey?”
This river can’t be that deep. How long can you stay under, holding your breath? Can he swim? I think he can. He can.
“Harvey?”
More seconds pass and fear jabs my gut. It’s been too long now, hasn’t it? What do I do? Jump in and look for him? My thoughts race. What if he dies? He can’t die. I don’t know how to give CPR. Will people think I killed him? Why would he kiss me and then drown himself?!
“Harvey!”
“You rang?”
I turn to see him a few feet away, treading water, a gigantic grin on his face. My grip on the side of the canoe loosens. Relief floods my veins.
But then it’s gone.
“What the hell was that?” I yell.
“Just cooling off. Come on in. The water’s fine.”
I launch an oar at him like a harpoon. “You scared me, you son of a bitch!”
He moves out of the way. “Goddamn, Hollywood. Take it easy.”
“You’re not funny.”
He grabs the oar and swims toward the canoe. “I wasn’t trying to be.”
“Then what were you trying to be?”
He grips the side of the canoe opposite of me and tosses the oar back in, then rests his arms on the ledge. He’s got no business looking this good, swimming in a dirty river like a hillbilly.
“I don’t know yet,” he says thoughtfully. “I’m still figuring it out.”
I glare at him. “What the hell’s gotten into you?”
His crystal-blue eyes focus on me. He’s the quintessential California boy, through and through. He’s too beautiful for this place. His expression turns snide, like he knows it. “Were you really scared?”
I meet his eyes. He knows exactly what the answer is, but he’s waiting for me to say it, and I won’t.
“You’re a good kisser, by the way,” he says, winking then swimming off toward the bank. “Just thought you should know.”
What am I supposed to say to that? You too, dipshit.
Because he is. He really is, and it pisses me off that he just walked up to me and did it. That I stood there and let him. That I kissed him back. That I got turned on, and he could feel it.
That I want him to do it again.
He’s already out of the water, wringing out his shirt, when I row the canoe back and pull it onto the grass.
Harvey slings his wet shirt over his shoulder and goes to drink water.
His back—naked and golden—faces me, and I start wondering what he’d do if I came up behind him and pushed him over that picnic table.
That’s what he wanted to do to me: bend me over my own bed and fuck me.
A pleasant shudder runs through me. I don’t know what’s happened, but ever since we were in that shed together, it’s like he took off one of my masks and kept it for himself.
That mask must have been heavy because I feel lighter without it.
Lighter and almost naked. I guess that’s expected after saying the things I did.
Footsteps crunch in the grass behind me. I turn to see Canyon approaching.
He gestures to me. “You’ve got a phone call.”
I blink. “Me?”
“Yeah, come on.”
“Who is it?”
“I’m not your answering service, bud. Come on.”
As I follow Canyon to the lodge, nerves eat at me. Is it Bonnie or Floyd? Did something happen? Or is it Margie returning my call?
When I pick up the phone, it’s not them.
“Austin?”
“Phil?”
“How are you?”
“Um. I’m fine.” I pause, a little perplexed. “Why are you calling me here?”
“Well, I wanted to see how things were going.” A low whine hums over the long-distance line, but I think he clears his throat. “And I got some good news for you, and I thought you’d want to know.”
“Oh, really?”
“We cast Brad Vick as Sergeant Bailey.”
I’m stunned. “Wow. Seriously?”
Brad Vick is a rising star. He’s been nominated for several acting awards and has won a few I’ve never even had a chance at.
He had a supporting role in a Western earlier this year.
It did great at the box office and earned significant critical acclaim.
If Brad is on the show, that clearly means it’s going to be a hit.
Someone like him wouldn’t have taken the role otherwise.
Acting alongside him will be an honor… and a little nerve-racking.
“He’s excited,” Phil says. “And really can’t wait to work with you.”
A flutter of flattery stirs in my stomach. “With me?”
“Well, sure. And with you two as costars, the network will be knocking other shows out of their time slots. People will be excited seeing you two in a show together, and you in a more dramatic, adult role.”
I smile, flattery morphing into anticipation. This is going to be huge. I wanted to be taken seriously as an adult actor, and now I am. I’m… kind of scared. I really can’t mess this up.
Phil seems to read my mind. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I mean… yeah. I’m just, um, really excited too.”
“We can make you a star, Austin. Even bigger than before. I always knew you had talent—from that first day. You remember that? Little you, sitting in that big office chair, telling me those stories.” He laughs his grandfatherly laugh, and I smile, remembering that day.
Phil discovered me when I dropped my ice-cream cone on his shoe.
Bonnie had taken me to the Dairy Queen near Sherman Oaks and got me ice cream.
I turned and accidentally dropped it on the shoe of the man behind us in line—Phil Baxter.
He said I looked so pitiful and remorseful that he had to laugh.
I remember apologizing and reaching on my tiptoes to the counter for napkins.
He gave Bonnie his card. She brought me in for an audition, and I sat in his office chair, answering his questions.
They were silly, like did I believe in the Tooth Fairy or Santa Claus.
I remember giving them serious thought and serious answers.
I knew I must have been doing something right from the way he smiled and laughed at what I said.
He brought Arnold in to talk to me, and that’s how it happened. That’s how it all started.
Phil says, “I hope your time there has been helpful so far.”
“It has,” I admit. Aside from, you know, getting into a brawl with Harvey. Then making out with him.
“I hope you understand now why this was important for you.” He pauses again, the tone of his voice changing. “I don’t want you making a fool out of yourself. Or anyone else. I hope you’ll keep better company when you get back. You understand?”
His tone twists my stomach like I’ve been caught in a dirty lie. “I understand.”
“Good. We’ll touch base in a couple of weeks.”
After we hang up, a funny feeling settles. I consider calling Bonnie and Floyd to share the news, since it sounds official, but decide to wait until I see them in person.
It’s close to dinner, and I don’t want to walk all the way back to the river.
I sit near the Hindu statue for a few minutes.
I haven’t thought about pills or coke in a while, and I’ve felt good these last couple of weeks.
Phil was right. I needed this. But a nagging feeling tugs at something inside me, stealing from the excitement I should be feeling about working with Brad Vick.
It’s clear Phil intends to give me the role.
We can make you a star, Austin.
…don’t want you making a fool out of yourself. Or anyone else…
So what is it, then?
I decide it’s been a weird day—Harvey throwing me off with the kiss and scaring me to death. Now I can smile to myself and remember I’m going to be a star. People will want me again. This place can’t cure that kind of addiction, but I’m not letting it go. I’ll take it with me when I leave.
“You got a woman calling you, Hollywood?” Harvey asks as he takes a seat at our table.
I pick through a tofu dish that isn’t half bad. I guess I’m just not very hungry.
“If I did,” I say, “would you be jealous?”
For a split second, his bravado disappears. Then he looks at me with that arrogant face, albeit with a tiny smile. “Do you want me to be?”
I stare at his smirky face. He’s got a shirt on now. He must have showered—he smells like Old Spice. Why does everything with him have to be a challenge? And why do I kind of like it?
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “And it wasn’t a woman. It was Phil Baxter.”
Harvey stares at me blankly.
“One of the producers of Love Thy Neighbor. He’s also producing the new show.”
“Groovy.”
“He said Brad Vick is going to be my costar.”
Harvey swallows some food. “Who?”
“Brad Vick. He’s an actor. He was in that Western, Across the Prairie. I think it released back in March.”
“Never heard of him.” A hint of bitterness laces his voice. Just enough to suggest he actually has heard of him.
“Anyway. That’s why he called.”
“He couldn’t wait to tell you until you got back?”
“He was just checking on me.” I look down at my plate. “He’s the one who told me about this place. Sounds like they’re going to give me the role for sure.”
“Did he make Chad Dick go to rehab?”
“Brad Vick, and I don’t know. I doubt it. I’ve never seen him in the tabloids.”
“Well.” Harvey wipes his mouth with a napkin and sits back in his chair. “Good for you, Hollywood. You get to hang out with a superstar.”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he is jealous. He certainly doesn’t seem happy about it, or curious like he was the other day. He seems a bit disappointed too. It’s interesting.
I push the tray away and ball up the napkin. “I think I’m gonna skip the bonfire tonight.”
Harvey takes a drink of water. “Why?”
“I’m not feeling well.” I look him right in the eyes. “I think I need to lie down.”
He’s staring right back. “Oh yeah?”
“Will you tell Timber or Canyon for me?”
He shrugs. “Sure.”