CHAPTER THREE #2
‘’I was bloody terrified and intimidated by the whole thing…
so shy and self-conscious that I barely had the courage to speak up in class, but I needed to buy something in the French supermarket to pass the end of term exam.
I asked Gav how to say, Which is your best cheese?
He told me to say Quel est votre fromage le plus puant?
I asked the lady behind the counter. She recommended a cheese called Vieux–Boulogne, so I nodded and paid for a small wedge of it, and then I bought some sweets with the rest of the Euros.
The whole class each made a purchase and we got back on the school coach to go to the ferry and get back to Dover. ’’
‘’And?’’ I placed another slice of Brie on the warm bread, ate, and sipped tea as Jack entertained me with his story.
‘’The bloody coach broke down and we got stuck for like, six hours on a roasting hot day. I’d put the cheese in my school bag. Someone noticed a strange smell. They tracked it to me. The other kids started yelling that I’d shat myself.’’
I choked on my tea, and then laughed so hard tears rolled down my cheeks. Jack didn’t stop to wait for me to recover.
’’I was mortified! Gavin, the little shit, had played a prank on me. He revealed he’d made me ask for the smelliest cheese, and fuck, it really reeked like shitty unwashed arsehole. My teacher was furious, she made me throw it out of the window cos it smelled so bad.’’
I enjoyed the ridiculousness of the anecdote, but I could see what Jack was doing. He was trying to distract me from my doom spiral, and honestly, I was grateful that he’d wanted to make me smile.
Then, self depreciatingly, he said, “I guess it served me right. I’ve always been far too trusting.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No, dude, no! Trust is beautiful, it keeps your heart open to new opportunities,” I insisted. “If someone chooses to betray your trust, that’s on them.” I said those words passionately, for a moment forgetting my personal predicament. Then I heard myself and grimaced.
“Well, those who betray me lose out because I don’t give second chances,” Jack insisted firmly.
“Exactly,” I agreed. “You know your worth.”
“You remember what my life mantra is, don’t you?”
I recalled that when we’d shared a trailer Jack used a kohl pencil to write at the top of the dressing table mirror. “Yeah, I remember. Don’t ever dim your light to make others feel comfortable.” He lived by those words, out, proud, unashamed.
“Well remembered,” he grinned. “Don’t let Erik’s infidelity take the spotlight off you and everything you’ve achieved in your career.“ Jack reached across the table and took my hand.
“I know you’re hurting and I’m sorry you’re going through this, but we’ve worked our tight little bottoms off to get this movie out.
Today, we’re going to dress up in fabulous designer suits that make us look like sex-on-legs and then we’ll work it on the red carpet.
Fuck the gossips. We deserve to celebrate. ”
The earnestness of Jack’s speech connected with my withered heart.
I rubbed my thumb over the back of his hand, considering the eroticism of the veins, and his long, elegant, fingers with manicured nails.
He had such beautiful sculptural hands. A wave of emotion choked me and I was uncharacteristically tongue-tied.
I nodded and released his hand. “It’s a good plan,” I said finally.
Jack rose and after a moment returned with a huge bowl of fruit salad and yoghurt. He sat and began wolfing it down, the juice glistening on his lips.
“I don’t know if you got the memo,” he said between spoonful’s, “But I’m wearing Versace and you’re in Gautier. Oh, and Lucy’s Eurostar gets in at midday.’’
This surprised me. “I thought Killian was your plus-one for the European dates?” I quizzed, confused.
“Oh god no!” he spluttered. “That’s been over for ages. I’m single and ready to mingle, baby!” he revealed with a saucy wag of his brows.
“Shit, sorry, what the hell happened? I should have known!” So much for being a friend! Was I a self-consumed douche, so wrapped up in my bubble that I hadn’t known my husband was a serial cheater or that Jack was nursing a broken heart?
Jack batted my questions away with his spoon.
“How could you know if I never mentioned it? It was like, six months ago, not long after we wrapped. Killian and I were fuck buddies for a couple of months before I flew to Toronto. Honestly, I barely knew the guy, so, no biggy,” he said dismissively.
He took a gulp of tea and then glanced up.
I hadn’t looked away or continued with my breakfast.
“What?” Jack asked. I eyeballed him.
“Look,“ he sighed, his shoulders sagging. “It’s just so fucking…embarrassing,” he confessed. “I was furious when it happened and didn’t want to talk about it. But believe me; I did want to rip his fucking balls off. You know what the worst thing was?” he directed animatedly with his spoon.
“The self-doubt. I’m a good-looking, confident guy, and consider myself a pretty good judge of character, but when someone fucks me over I think, What the hell did I do wrong and why didn’t I see this co—oh, sorry…
too soon?” he winced realizing how relatable his words were.
I shrugged, and yeah, that was the exact headspace I now inhabited. What did I do wrong in my marriage and why hadn’t I noticed that Erik was cheating? I met Jack’s coffee brown eyes and gestured for him to speak on.
“Out with it. Tell me!” I demanded.
“Killian didn’t cheat on me. I would have understood that, cos he was an insatiable fuck with a massive cock…but...” Jack sat back. “You remember how long the days were for our shoot?”
I rubbed a hand over my face, “Oh yeah, eighteen-hour days sometimes.”
“I flew back from Toronto exhausted to my bones, went to bed, and was comatose with jetlag for like, four days. When I finally entered the real world again there were these messages from Killian, the usual shit…dick pics, him wondering where I was and when we could hook up. There was also a message from a guy called Georges Calloux, a costumier I’d worked with on Harmon Hall, the historical series I was in.
“Yeah, Lord Bertie,” I enthused. “That was the first show I first saw you in. You lit up the screen. Seriously, dude. I thought damn…who is he? He’s got star quality!”
“Darling, you are too kind!” Jack said in Lord Bertie’s crisp British accent.
“Well, it turned out that Georges saw costume accessory props for sale on eBay—props that he’d gifted to me when we wrapped on the final season.
He’d given me Lord Bertie’s collapsible top hat, his silver topped cane, white kidskin gloves, and his monocle.
I’d kept them in a box in my walk-in closet…
or so I’d thought,” Jack paused and licked the last of the fruit juice from his lips, and yeah, I allowed my gaze to consciously follow the sweep of his wet pink tongue.
From this day forth I shall give myself permission to ogle beautiful men and not feel a moment of guilt.
“While we were filming in Toronto, I’d given Killian the key to my house so he could water the plants and feed my cat. It turns out the bastard stole from me and was flogging my items online. I tell you, I was so very fucking livid when I saw him, and I was not a gentleman!”
“Wow…wow…oh my god…I did not see that coming! Did you get the props back?”
“Yeah, I contacted eBay and they cancelled the listings. I told Killian he’d better return my things or I was going to the police and the press.
He worked as a sound engineer in the West End and there was no way he’d get a job at any theatre in the country if it got out he was light-fingered.
I sent a warning message to a few contacts anyway! ”
“What an asshole! I can’t get my head around how any lover could do something so awful…to you!”
“Touché luv!”
We were both silent for a suspended moment where our eyes met and fixed. I felt his all-consuming look down deep in my balls. “So, eh, what happened?”
“Turns out Killian had a substance abuse problem that I hadn’t known about.
That’s the thing about drug addicts…some of them are skilled liars and can hide their habit really fucking well.
I wouldn’t have touched him with a shitty stick if I’d known he had a habit.
I even told him on our first date that drug use was a total deal breaker for me. ”
I’d heard Jack’s anti-drug views before and I respected him for it.
There’s so much substance abuse in our industry and it was easy to get sucked in.
I’d even dabbled in my early twenties but that lifestyle wasn’t for me.
Luckily, I got out of it unscathed, unlike so many young, pretty men and women looking to get a break in Hollywood.
“Apparently Killian owed money to his dealer and couldn’t make enough by legal means to cover his debt. But it doesn’t matter now. I’m so over him,” Jack said with finality.
“He never deserved you. Rise and shine, gurl!” I snapped my fingers with dramatic flair, making Jack laugh. “Back-atcha, sista!” he replied. Jack’s laughter was infectious and made me forget my woes for a moment...just a moment.
“So, um…what are you going to do when you get home to New York?” Jack asked haltingly.
“Get tested for starters,” I said grimly.
“Oh, man, that’s brutal. But you’re right.”
“I suppose I’ll have to turn my phone on to find out if there’s even a home worth going back to!”
”No time like the present,” he encouraged gently.
I slumped back and frustratedly fisted my hands in my damp hair. “Ugh, this sounds so dumb…but…I’m fucking terrified of turning my phone back on,” I sighed pathetically.
“Oh babe,” Jack sighed, “Been there. Sometimes I just want to yeet my phone into the sea,” he said wanly. “You know I keep mine in the hotel room safe when I’m on junkets or I’d be rage posting on social media about all of the injustice in the world.”