Chapter 9 Justin
Justin
So much for my brilliant plan I developed to remain stoic, silent and completely ignore Doc when she’s at my home.
Christ. It took less than a minute of her talking for me to break down like an amateur.
I close my eyes and dip my head under the near-scalding shower water, but it’s not washing away the dull ache forming from talking about my parents.
Any time I think of them, it brings on an avalanche of unwelcome emotions.
I know how it looks to outsiders: my parents spent an exorbitant amount of energy and money to portray a life that didn’t exist. Their brand and reputation for the family business were always top priority.
They bought me and Mia ridiculously lavish gifts so they could brag to their friends and family. But Christ, they used those gifts to control us. I’m pretty sure I heard ‘look what I do for you!’ more than anything else during my entire childhood.
Eucalyptus-scented steam fills the space.
I breathe in so hard my nostrils sting, but it’s not erasing the memory of my sixteenth birthday when my parents bought me a Mercedes.
My mom spent nearly an hour posing me, becoming livid that I didn’t show enough excitement and threatening to return the gift until I got it right.
By the time she snapped the ‘perfect’ photo, I was choking back tears, my dad screaming at me to ‘grow some balls’.
I stormed up to my room without ever driving the car.
‘Stop it,’ I mutter and turn up the heat.
After starting therapy several years ago, my doctor told me flashbacks would pop up randomly for the rest of my life, and it’s best not to fight the memories. The doctor said it’s like when a song gets stuck in your head, and to get it out, you have to sing the entire verse.
I run shampoo through my hair, and dammit.
Just get the memory over with. Ten years old, shy, small and according to my dad, too fucking sensitive.
The resident fourth grade bully threatening to beat me up; crying to my mom as she stared at her reflection; her telling me that if I loved her, I’d stop crying because the bully’s parents were important clients.
And if I ruined this deal for them, they wouldn’t take Mia to Disney World.
Mia loved Disney World.
So, I stopped crying.
I turn off the water and wipe the foggy mirror with the back of my hand. Christ. My dad’s dead and still holds power over me. I know exactly who my mother is and can’t completely cut her out. The movies, the money, the limelight … none of it protects me the way I thought it would.
Pathetic.
After getting ready, I head to the SUV with Doc.
We ride in silence as I try to lift from my funk.
For a week now, we’ve driven together every day.
But today her coconut-scented shampoo and pinked cheeks are moving something in me.
Earlier today, when she spoke about her family, I saw the surprising softness underneath her ridged exterior.
And I want more.
The SUV eases into a double-parking spot in front of the restaurant.
Doc opens the door, checks the surroundings and motions for me to get out.
This right here, is one of the worst parts of the bodyguard situation.
‘I don’t mind the driver opening the door for me, but it feels weird to have a woman do it,’ I say as I exit the vehicle. ‘I don’t like it.’
Doc is like a beautiful, expressionless statue. She says nothing as her chocolate-brown eyes continue to scan the sidewalks and pedestrians.
‘Seriously, what if someone gets a pic? I’d look like such an asshole.’ Not only that, I also don’t love the idea of someone mistaking Doc as my girlfriend.
No matter how beautiful she is, it doesn’t feel right. And it’s not fair to her, either.
A hefty exhale leaves her nose. ‘If it makes you feel better, next time the driver can open it for me.’
Well, holy shit. She finally agreed to something. We cross the street to my favorite local, casual diner, far away from paparazzi or tourists. On the sidewalk outside of the door, my buddy Conner turns the corner.
‘Justin! What’s up, brother?’ Conner shouts as his thick, naturally flaming red hair bounces with every happy step. He lunges toward me, but Doc immediately blocks him, holding Conner back with one arm while keeping a hand on my chest.
She’s never touched me before, except for the handshake when she first met me. I don’t know what it is, I get touched all the time. Fellow actors, fans, friends, but this feels different. Warm, almost electric, like her handprint is searing into my chest.
‘Whoa! What the hell?’ Conner says, stepping back.
I don’t want her to drop her hand from my chest, but before Doc does some sort of martial arts maneuver and takes down my former roommate, I pat her shoulder. ‘It’s okay. Conner, meet Doc, my bodyguard. Doc, this is my buddy Conner.’
‘Your bodyguard? What the fuck, bro?’ Conner laughs. ‘You have a bodyguard now? And a chick guard?’
I wince and glance at her steely dark eyes. ‘Woman, Conner. Not chick. Let’s join the twenty-first century.’
‘Whatever. Woman,’ Conner says chuckling.
Conner is not really the dick he sounds like right now. He’s more the unfiltered, says stupid shit then apologizes later, kind of guy. But I’m pretty sure even if I explained that to Doc, she wouldn’t care.
Inside the restaurant, the smell of garlic butter, freshly baked bread and sage-filled sausage floods the room. During training for a film, I follow a stupid strict diet and eliminate almost all carbs. But cheat days are my favorite, and hell if I’m saying no to the best bread in town.
At the hostess stand, Conner turns to Doc, and his gaze travels head to toe.
Hell, no. The look unleashes a surprising protective zap, and I swallow the urge to shield her from his stare.
‘Did you say “Doc”?’ Conner asks, with a side grin. ‘Is that a nickname?’
A deadpan stare meets him. This probably shouldn’t make me smile, but it does.
‘Yep.’ Doc glances at me. ‘I’ll get a table over there and stay out of your way. Enjoy your lunch.’
We follow the hostess, and I try to ignore a group of women in a corner booth not-so-discreetly filming me with their phones.
This is why I don’t leave the house. Fans and paparazzi are part of the gig.
I know this. The whole town knows this. And I’d be the biggest asshole in the room if I didn’t understand a million aspiring actors would give anything to change places with me.
But it doesn’t take away this feeling like I’m a monkey in a zoo, where gawking people are waiting for me to perform.
‘Since when do you roll with security?’ Conner asks as he opens the menu.
‘Started last week. The team wants it.’ The entire situation still seems overzealous and no one’s giving me a straight answer.
I’ll play along, for now, and chalk it up to the studio being extra cautious because of recent lawsuits.
‘There’s some lunatic mailing stuff to Zane and the studio.
It’s probably nothing, but the studio’s nervous, and, well, now I have a bodyguard. ’
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a sliver of anxiety that someone is legitimately threatening me.
Zane already gave me Doc’s insanely impressive credentials, and I witness her diligence firsthand every day.
Why would she take such a low-risk assignment when other people are under actual threat?
Conner’s gaze travels to Doc’s table and lingers. ‘Dude, she’s hot. Like crazy hot. You hittin’ that?’
My neck tightens. ‘Jesus Christ, man. No, I’m not sleeping with her.
’ Doc is beautiful. She lights up a room and appears oblivious, or at least totally unaffected, to people’s reactions.
Strong, black ponytail, these incredible eyes that are a perfect mix of whiskey brown and chocolate, and gorgeous full lips.
Spectacular lips, in fact. With a cupid-bow shape and a natural plum shade, I noticed her lips the first time we met, although we got off on such a bad foot that I almost forgot about them.
Almost. ‘She’s a staff member for God’s sake.
That’s probably illegal. Besides, we don’t get along that well. ’
Conner leans forward on his elbows. ‘Seriously? I mean, what’s not to get along with? She might be trying to hide it in those cargo pants, but there’s no way you didn’t notice her phenomenal ass.’
‘Enough,’ I hiss. And I hate myself, because, yes, of course I’ve noticed her ass. But I swear, I only looked once or twice.
‘Christ, okay, I’m just playing.’
I peek at Doc. What the hell is she doing?
She digs in her bag, then shifts quickly so her back is to me and stares at her stomach.
When she swivels back to where she can see both me and the café entrance, she catches my eyes and freezes.
Something flashes in her face that I can’t read. Embarrassment, maybe?
‘What can I get for you?’ the server asks while opening her notepad. When she glances at me, her mouth falls open. ‘Oh my God. Justin Greenwood! I can’t believe you’re at one of my tables. I seriously love your movies so much.’
Shit. Not today. I absolutely do not have the energy for this. ‘Aww, thank you.’ I flash a smile and pray no one is listening. ‘That’s really nice of you to say.’
‘My manager will kill me, but can we take a selfie later?’ Red blooms across her cheeks and she rises to her tiptoes.
A picture is the very last thing I want to do right now. For one day, all I want is to eat a meal outside of my house in total peace. ‘Absolutely. Just tell your manager that I’m the one who asked for the selfie, not the other way around.’
After we order, Conner shoves a straw in his drink. ‘Dude. Doesn’t that annoy the fuck out of you?’
Sometimes, yes. ‘Nah, she’s sweet.’ When I was thirteen, I met my idol, a former 49er’s quarterback who was a complete dick, and it crushed me.
The first time a fan rushed me, giddy and stumbling over their words, I vowed to never treat them the way the football player treated me.
‘Besides, it’s not like she’s a dude at the urinal next to me asking for a pic. ’
‘True.’ Conner digs his cell phone out of his pocket and sets it on the table. ‘Did you catch the game on Sunday? What were they thinking? Going for it on fourth down in the third quarter. Rookie mistake if you ask me.’
An hour passes of us chatting about sports. When I stand, Doc immediately lifts to her feet. I give her a quick nod, acknowledging that I remember the rules: she exits first, scans the surrounding area, then I lead as she follows close behind.
I still hate it. But after a week of being with Doc, I get the distinct feeling that she’s been disrespected in the past and has a zero-level barometer for bullshit when it comes to people following her rules. So, for now, I’ll follow.
Outside, I blink against the sun and try not to elbow Conner in the ribs as he inches towards Doc and stretches. For God’s sake, is he seriously flexing? Fourteen years since we roomed together at USC and not much has changed.
‘So, Doc.’ Conner drops his arm. ‘Justin tells me you’ve been working for him for about a week, now, right?’
She thumbs her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. ‘Yep, starting our second week.’
Well, shit. I think I just witnessed a miracle. Doc said this with a hint of a grin. ‘She’s keeping me out of trouble.’
‘We’ll need you around when we go out. I’m the one that throws Justin into trouble. He’s the one trying to get me out of it.’ Conner smirks and rubs his hands together. ‘Well, Justin, it’s a tough life you lead. Forced to be protected by a beautiful woman—’
‘Okay, time to head out.’ I slap him on the chest with a warning shot.
We say our goodbyes and I slide into the waiting SUV. After we buckle, I peek at Doc. I want to ask her more questions about her family, and Minnesota and how she got into this job. But it seems like the bit she gave me earlier is all I’m going to get for today, and I don’t want to push it.
Doc digs out her phone and sets it in the console. ‘Hey, when the server was fangirling you earlier, I made a decision not to step in because it looked like you could handle yourself.’
I chuckle. ‘Thank you for trusting me with a five-foot-nothing twenty-year-old.’
A quick grin flashes. ‘I just know that sometimes you don’t want fans approaching you, and we don’t want another situation where you nearly flatten a guy like that one video.’
Oh Christ. I know exactly what video she’s talking about. The whole ‘celebrities behaving badly’ is clickbait, but how that particular video blew up so much is beyond me. ‘Sorry about Conner,’ I say, switching the subject. ‘He can be a lot sometimes.’
‘It’s not a big deal. He doesn’t seem too bad.’ She loops her thumb around the seatbelt strap. ‘How long have you guys known each other?’
‘About fourteen years. We played ball together at USC. He usually comes with me when I go out.’
She lifts a brow. ‘Part of your entourage?’
I don’t say anything. I don’t have it in me to explain something that took me years to understand – I have a tough time forming connections, whether in relationships or friendship.
Whenever I meet someone new, I scan people like a CIA analyst. I look for any potential red flags and stand guard like a pitbull protecting myself.
Honestly, I’m not even sure if me and Conner are friends, or just people who spend time together.
‘Yeah, something like that,’ I finally say. A heaviness sinks into me, and I swing my gaze out the window.
Doc leans over and pats my hand but whips it back like she burned herself.
Did she just touch my hand? That was unexpected. And is her skin as soft as it seems? It was a whisper of a second, but it seared a small, warm print into my skin.
She clears her throat. ‘Well, he seems nice. You’re lucky to have such good friends.’
And then, she doesn’t say a word for the entire rest of the ride.