Chapter 13 #3
I lick my lips. “You’d really do that?”
“He’s lucky I’m a nice guy.” He looks over at Brad talking with Marlee. “Or he’d be shark bait.”
“Well, he’s straight,” I say finishing my drink. “He’s got a girlfriend.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, where is she?”
Right on cue, a woman with bouncy waves and a dress that barely covers her boobs walks over to kiss him on the cheek. He slips an arm around her tiny waist.
I pointedly look at Harvey. “See?”
He purses his lips, then turns to me. “Want any hors d’oeuvres, best friend?”
We eventually mingle. Harvey loosens up a little with alcohol.
He still gives Brad mean looks and talks loudly in his face like he’s an old man who can’t hear.
And since Harvey and I are here as “friends,” I put up with women hanging around him.
I can’t exactly intimidate them or squeeze their hands to death.
And since he’s an invited guest and we’re here as “friends,” he can’t be rude to them.
He’s enjoying it—I can tell. He glances at me several times, enjoying that I’m jealous. He’s doing it on purpose.
“Hey.”
I turn and see Brad beside me. Two can play at this game. I give Brad my Boy-Next-Door smile. “Hey.”
“Having a good time?” He grins back, looking a little tipsy.
“Yeah, actually.” I look around. “This is nice. Are we going to sail out to the ocean?”
He takes a drink and shakes his head. “Water’s too rough this evening.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Harvey watching me, not the girls. “It’s a nice night for a yacht party, though.”
Brad says, “I really hope the network picks up the show. Be a shame if this was the last time we could all hang out.” He looks around, then his heavy-lidded gaze lands on me.
I’ve had a couple of drinks, so I can’t tell for sure, but it appears Brad is looking at me in that funny way Harvey mentioned.
Harvey must see it too because he comes up beside me. “Hey, Chad. Austin says he’s gotta take a piss.” He loops his arm through mine and drags me around a corner, then traps me against a wall. He takes the drink from me and tosses it over the railing into the water.
“What—?” I hardly get it out before he kisses me.
I kiss him back deep, hard, and breathless. I wrap my arms around him. I’m ready to tear his clothes off when he kisses up and down my neck and traps my earlobe between his teeth. He tugs on it and whispers in my ear, “I don’t like him looking at you.”
I reach down and grasp the hard bulge in his pants.
He kisses my neck again. “If he touches you, I’ll break his arm.”
I don’t know why it turns me on when he says these things and acts like this, but it does.
“Not before I push all those girls in the water for touching you,” I growl in his ear.
We’re going to fuck right here. Outside, on this boat, with people only a few feet away all around us, laughing, talking, and clinking glasses.
A seating area with cushions is built into the side of the boat. He falls on me, my back sinking into the upholstery under his weight. I’ve got his zipper down and my hand in his pants when a throat clears. We jolt upright, Harvey nearly toppling onto the deck.
Brad stands just around the corner, watching us.
Shit.
“Hey, Chad,” Harvey says. “Austin was choking on a cherry so I was giving him mouth-to-mouth.” He pulls me to my feet and pats my chest. “See? Good as new.”
I’m surprised when the corner of Brad’s mouth lifts. “I know what you were doing.” He glances at me. “And you won’t be the only ones tonight.”
I catch my breath and straighten out my clothes. “Listen, um, I’d really appreciate if you…”
Brad holds up a hand. “I never saw a thing. But, um…” He moves a little closer. “There are some beds below deck. Just let me know.” He smiles and winks, then raises his glass to us and walks off.
I look at Harvey, and he looks at me. It has to be the alcohol—that’s why we crack up, laughing, instead of freaking out and leaving. I guess it is funny: getting caught on Brad Vick’s yacht with my hand in Harvey Laden’s pants.
Harvey smooths out my hair. “We need to get you looking handsome again, angel.”
“See? Brad’s not such a bad guy.”
Harvey makes a face. “I guess he’s okay. As long as he doesn’t try to grope you again.”
We rejoin the party and find people gathered around Shauna. She’s reading palms. I also see the coke on a side table, then quickly look away. I need to be more prepared when I come to things like this. The temptation is worse after I’ve had a couple of drinks.
Shauna finishes reading the palm of a guy and looks around. “Who’s next?” Her eyes land on Harvey. “How about you?”
He glances at me and shrugs. “Sure, what the hell.”
He sits in front of Shauna, and she grabs one of his hands, running her fingers over the creases.
“You have a long lifeline,” she says, pointing. “And here…” She looks up at Harvey. “You’ve had a difficult life, haven’t you?”
The humor melts from his face, and something changes in his eyes.
“Your family,” she says quietly. “A broken family.”
He swallows. I expect him to yank his hand away, but he doesn’t.
Shauna runs her fingertip over another crease. “But here. See right here? It’s going to get better. You’re going to have a very happy life.” She gazes at him again, intently. “There’s someone who loves you.”
He takes his hand away from her and stands up. His smile is flat. “That was cool. Really cool. Thanks.” He walks past me.
“Are you okay?” I ask, and he keeps walking, so I follow him.
He goes all the way to the other end of the yacht, right up to the railing. I stand beside him. “What’s wrong?”
He stares out at the water. “I just got a little seasick.”
“We’re docked.”
He fixes his eyes on me.
“Was it what she said… about your family?”
He shakes his head.
It takes me a few moments to recognize it in his eyes—the nerve that was struck. She said someone loves him.
And that someone is me.
It’s so clear, so simple it feels artificial. Still, neither of us says it. He doesn’t have to be afraid. I probably don’t either. But why state the obvious? It’s right here between us.
“I think I’m all partied out,” I say quietly. “You want to go?”
He nods, and I drive us back to my place. Once inside, Harvey stands by the windows overlooking the pool.
I stand behind him. “Want to go for a swim?”
After a moment or so, he turns to face me.
“I didn’t know Shauna did stuff like that.” I laugh awkwardly. “She’s never mentioned it on set.”
He steps closer to me. I put my hands around his face and kiss him.
It took getting trapped in a hot, metal shed to get us to this point.
How quickly things progressed after that, like all it took was breaking down some walls.
Jack asked me what name I’d give this, and I don’t think there is one.
It’s just a feeling. I place my hand on his chest, over his heart, and it’s here.
He returns the gesture.
Right here.
I don’t know why three words, eight letters, can be so scary. Every moment of him fucking me up against the window, after it’s streaked with sweat and cum, I think I’ll be able to say it. I think I’ll be able to tell him. But loving someone makes you mortal.
And I’m supposed to be his angel.
And he’s supposed to be mine.
I stand as Margie approaches the table. “Hey you.”
“Hey.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and shakes her head. “You like it?”
“You look like one of Charlie’s angels.”
We sit in the booth I requested near the back of the restaurant.
Margie glances at my glass of whiskey and shoots me a look.
“Hey, give me break,” I say. “I’m off blow and pills. I’m not gonna do that stuff anymore.”
She smiles. “I’m proud of you. You look really good.” She tilts her head. “Kind of… glowy.”
A waiter comes by to get her drink order and ask if I want another, which I do. When he’s gone, Margie looks around, her big hoop earrings dangling almost to her shoulders.
“This is fancy. Are you going to propose to me?” She moves the ashtray over to her and lights a cigarette. “Because I’d have to say no.”
I laugh, then I give her a look. “You’d really say no?”
She leans back and exhales. “Neither of us are cut out for archaic institutions.”
“Okay, Gloria Steinem.”
The waiter brings our drinks, and we both need another minute to go over the menu.
Margie studies it. “So, it seems you’ve got something to tell me.”
“Well, there’s a lot I want to tell you. Since I haven’t seen you.”
She stubs out her cigarette. “I have something to tell you too.”
I take a sip of my drink, then say, “Ladies first.”
She takes a breath then looks at me, the corners of her mouth twitching.
“I don’t know. I was thinking. Well, I’ve been thinking—and I might have been a little stoned—but you know the Voyagers, right?
They launched last year? I saw somewhere, in the newspaper, I think, that it will take them like seventy thousand years to get to the closest star. Seventy thousand years.”
“That’s a long time,” I say.
“It amazes me, you know. That we could build something like that. Did you know they put these gold records on them with all the languages and sounds from Earth? I saw it on TV. Carter recorded a message. Can you believe that? Aliens might hear him one day.”
I laugh. “Or Dan Akroyd.”
She laughs too. “I just started thinking about everyone who was a part of all that. They built everything, put all this time into it, then sent it into a void. And they’ll never see it again.
But if something does find them, it’s like they’re kind of immortal.
In a way. They go on forever.” She pauses.
“So, there’s a program at UCLA. Aerospace engineering.
It’s really hard to get into. I didn’t know if I’d even have a shot.
There’s a test you have to take.” She smiles.
“I passed it. Almost a near-perfect score.”
I stare at her. “When was this? You never told me about a test.”
“I studied at night and between scenes on set. I didn’t want to tell anyone in case I failed.”
“That’s amazing, Margie.” I reach over to hug her.
“Can you believe it? From sitcoms and soap operas to a rocket scientist.” She laughs. “It almost sounds ridiculous. I didn’t think I could do it, but I wanted to try.”
I grab her hand. “I’m happy for you, Margie.”
She smiles at me. “Thank you.”
“When do you start your classes?”
“I register this fall. I heard through the grapevine they’re planning on killing off my character at some point, so it’ll all work out.”
The waiter returns for our orders. I ask for champagne to celebrate her accomplishment. We raise our glasses and sip.
Once we’re alone, Margie says, “So, what did you want to tell me?”
I laugh. “I don’t know if I can follow that.”
“Well, what is it? Did you meet someone in rehab?” She’s teasing and laughing, but I spit out my sip of champagne. She blinks at me. “Wait. Did you?”
I sigh. “I didn’t really meet him there, per say.”
Now I’m nervous. It feels silly to have been so formal.
I don’t want to hide my… whatever we are—relationship?
—with Harvey from her. She’ll figure out I’m seeing someone anyway and will want to know.
But now, telling her, even just her, makes it real.
Not something happening in secret in a cabin out in the country or my waterbed.
“The suspense is killing me,” she says.
It’s my turn to take a breath. “Harvey Laden was there. At the place. When we first saw each other, we got into a fight. It was my fault. I hit him first. Instead of kicking us out, they made us room together in one cabin, eat together, and work on this clean-up project together…” I shrug. “It just kind of happened.”
She’s resting her chin on her hand, her face a mix of confusion and suspicion. “What kind of happened?”
“Well. If the goal of putting us together like that was to force us to get along, then it worked. We got along. A lot.”
I can’t blame her for being stunned and confused. A few months ago, Harvey and I were photographed punching each other in the face. And now… I think I might be in love with him.
No, I don’t think. I know. I am very much in love with him.
A sly smile grows on her face. “Does this mean we’ve both gone down on the same guy?”
I stare at her for a moment then we both laugh. “Yes, we have.”
“So, you’re dating?” Margie asks.
“Yeah. Well, we’ve only been out together a couple of times.” It’s a little embarrassing to say that. There’s no reason we shouldn’t go out together more. People will gossip, but it’ll fade eventually.
“Well,” she says. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
“Thanks.” I smile.
“Look at us.” She pours another glass of champagne for us. “Living it up, huh?”
“Yeah. Living it up.”