7. Jess
Jess
Ilooked down at the remnants of the three turkey legs I'd eaten and still felt empty. My right shoulder still itched despite the fact I had scratched it raw. This was not how I thought this con was going to go.
“Feel better, sweetie?” Bray asked, cautiously.
“No,” I admitted. “Everything still sucks. God. Why did he have to be an actor?”
Bray raised an eyebrow and leaned on the table. “I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to be honest with me. Are you pissed at Daniel Finnegan because he’s an actor or because you had a fling with one?”
It was like a punch to my gut when she said that. “Okay. That might be part of it,” I admitted. “But he’s still a jerk for not reading the books.
Bennet's eyes flitted back and forth between us before furrowing his brow. “Okay, I know I’ve never pried into Jess’s private life like some people at this table. But now I'm thinking I’m a bad friend, because I don’t totally understand the actor hate.”
“Oh, we don’t have time for that,” Brayonna said, shaking her head. “The con is only going on for another four days. The Seth tattoo alone would at least take a day and a half.”
The mention of Seth’s name made the itch on my shoulder flare up. “Actors suck,” I explained as I scratched my arm. “As do men. When you have both and try to have a relationship? Double suckage.”
“Got it,” Bennet said between bites of his turkey leg. “Men and actors suck. This does not surprise me at all.”
“Babe, you got turkey grease all over the back of your hand,” Bray said, pulling out a wet nap and scrubbing his hands.
“Hon, it’s fine… wait, you got a turkey stain on your outfit.” He pulled out a laundry pen from his bag and blotted at the stain.
I sat there in my misery and anger watching the two of them laugh, joke, and take care of each other, feeling a pang of jealousy in my chest. Seth never took care of me like that. Or if he did, he always wanted something.
“I see you watching us enviously,” Bray teased as she scrubbed Bennet’s other hand. “Go get your own dough boy.”
Bennet sighed, but his smile told a different story. “I really wish you would stop calling me that.”
“He’s all yours,” I promised her as my phone began to ring. It wasn’t spam, but it also wasn’t a number I knew. Usually, I let them go to voicemail, but I needed to pull myself away from the table and Bray and Bennet’s lovey-dovey routine. “Hello? This is Jess.”
“Jessica? It’s Daniel. Please don’t hang up.”
I hung up and walked back towards the table. Before I could return, the phone rang again. I checked and saw the same number from before. I sent it to voicemail.
I didn’t even take a step before the ringing started again. I gritted my teeth. I should have blocked the number. However, I had the feeling if I didn’t take the call, it would never end. I let out a long groan.
This was dumb. This was stupid. And I’m an idiot.
With a sigh, I hit the answer button and used the toughest, meanest voice I could muster. “I thought I told you to burn my number.”
“It wouldn’t do any good. I memorized it.”
He’d memorized my number? Something fluttered inside me, and I hated myself for it. “Okay. You have one minute.”
“I want to apologize, and I need a favor. Today was horrible, and I… I feel like we should clear the air. Just you and me.”
“You already apologized,” I said flatly. “And clearly this is about the favor.”
“No, it’s not. I believe the apology is more important. And if you don’t like either, you can tell me to leave you alone, and I’ll never bother you again,” he said. “Let me buy you dinner, and we can talk. Just one dinner. That’s all I ask.”
I shouldn’t have been entertaining this, but I was. This whole thing was a complete mess. Beyond salvageable. It was supposed to be a one-time fling, and now it was a problem. The worst thing about it was I couldn’t get him out of my mind, even if he was an insufferable–
“Jessica? Are you still there?”
“I am. I’m not sure how any of this is supposed to motivate me to meet with you.”
“Well, it’s a free dinner. I know a great place around the corner. It’ll be the best meal you ever had.”
I groaned, unconsciously beginning to walk around in a small circle, shaking my head. “I just ate three turkey legs. I’m not hungry.”
“...Three turkey legs? Seriously?”
“Daniel Finnegan, if you’re trying to ask me for a favor, you better not shame my turkey legs. What do you want?”
He paused for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Why start now?” I cringed a little when I said that. It wasn’t that he was dishonest per se, but… well, screw it. He didn’t read the books. I considered that dishonesty in my mind.
“Okay,” he said. “Here’s the thing. Most likely, if I don’t get to talk to you tonight? I’m not getting this role. If I don’t get this role? Chances are MaxFlick is going to do what they usually do. Cancel the series.”
His tone was earnest. Plaintive. Almost on the edge of begging.
The cancellation prospect was something I had called out days ago on my stream, so it wasn’t entirely a surprise.
Still, the thought of losing the show wasn’t appealing to me.
And then there was that small twinge of guilt about calling him out on stage less than an hour ago.
He continued. “I know you’re a fan, but this has a bigger impact.
It’s not about me losing a role. If that happens, it’s a loss for people who work on production.
The writers. Extras. The other actors. So, if you’re angry with me, I get it.
But at least give me a chance to apologize and ask a favor. One meal.”
This was bordering on emotional blackmail.
Somehow this man knew how to get to me. Despite its flaws, I still loved to watch the MaxFlick show.
Isla’s performance was always incredible, and Miles Mueller knew how to play a villain.
I hadn’t thought of the other people who might be affected by him losing the role.
But I didn’t like the corner he forced me into.
“You really care about the production?” I asked.
“Of course I do,” he said earnestly. “I’ve been part of a show for ten years. You rely on those people, so you can make a living. Work with them long enough, and they become family. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance.”
I didn’t respond. Mostly because I was disgusted with myself that I was letting him convince me to do this.
“Do you like Chinese food?” he asked.
“I don’t hate Chinese food.” I couldn’t believe I was listening to him.
“Is that a yes?”
God. Was I really doing this?
And then he pulled a dirty trick on me. His voice dropped an octave, and he dropped the line from Cauldron where Tyrst’an convinced Fiona to turn on Oderan.
“Don’t make a proud man beg.”
Something popped in my chest, and a tingly sensation flooded through my limbs. It wasn’t fair how well that worked on me. “Yes.”
“Fantastic. There’s a place around the corner called Kao’s. Are you free at 7:00? I noticed that your panel on fantasy authors ended around then.”
He actually checked my schedule? No. It was probably his sister who did. Either way, he was attempting to be considerate. “I’ll be there,” I promised, hating myself for agreeing to any of this.
“Thank you, Jessica. I really appreciate this.”
“You haven’t seen me eat yet. You haven’t maxed out your credit cards, have you?” I don’t know why I was joking with him. This was a bad idea.
He laughed. A rich sound that rang with deep tones. I fought the smile that tried to come to my face. “Is that a promise or a threat?” he asked.
It was a dumb joke, but I found myself laughing. Damn it. “You’ll have to wait until 7:00 to find out,” I said, hating myself for letting this happen.
“Then I’ll see you at 7:00,” he replied, still chuckling. “Thank you, Jessica.”
I said goodbye and ended the call. When I turned around, both Bray and Bennet were watching me. Their elbows rested on the table, hands raised and flat under their chins. Their wide eyes feigned innocence, but the smirks betrayed them entirely.
“Oooooo,” Bennet cooed. “Who was that?”
“I bet it was that dreamboat, Daniel what’s-his-name,” Bray stage-whispered.
Bennet gasped dramatically. “No!”
“Do you think he asked her to be his girlfriend?”
“O.M.G. I would diiiiiiie!”
“Enough,” I tried to sound exasperated, but I couldn’t help but laugh at their antics.
“Well, that was a fast turnaround,” Bray teased. “Did he call for a second date?”
“He called, because wants to clear the air and apologize.” I sat down and picked at my fourth turkey leg.
“Is that code for sneaking back to your hotel room later?” Bray joked.
“I don’t think there’s any sneaking going on, if you know what I mean,” Bennet said, jumping on the bandwagon.
“Stop. Let’s not make this anything more than it was– A fling that ended in disaster,” I said, my smile evaporating. “I took a chance, and the universe decided to crap all over it.”
Bray and Bennet’s expressions softened in sympathy. Bray reached out to rub my shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Not everyone you meet is going to be an actor or an a-hole.”
Bennet frowned and pondered for a second before bridging the topic. “Okay. I still feel like I’m a bad friend, because I don’t know where the actor thing is coming from.”
I let out a huge sigh. I could clearly remember the last time it happened. The laughter in the middle of spring cleaning when I found a bra stuck in the couch cushions. The coldness in my chest when I realized it wasn’t mine. The smile on Seth’s face transforming into a sneer when I confronted him.
I scratched my shoulder. “It’s fine. I won’t give you the gory details. The last two guys I dated were actors. Apparently while dating them and falling madly in love, they were acting the entire time. I was cheated on, I was lied to, and dumped as soon as something slightly better came along.”
Bray knew the story and nodded as she bit into her turkey leg, but Bennet frowned, pushing his plate away from him.