Chapter 6 Dramedy
DRAMEDY
SAINT
We locate a private lounge off of the event floor and file inside. I pace away to the window, with Anastasia in tow, irritated that we have to face off like this at all. Mom shuts out the noise from the event. She and Esme eye Anastasia warily.
“Should I be here? I can go wait at the bar for you.” She whispers.
“Absolutely. You’re with me tonight. Mom, Esme, this is my date, Anastasia. She’s a screenwriter for the Life and Love Channel. Christmas scripts being her particular specialty.”
“A screenwriter? Well, that’s certainly an upgrade from the usual sluts Miles parades through these events.”
“Mother,” I grit through my teeth.
“I’m a huge fan of yours, Mrs. St. James,” Anastasia cuts in at the perfect time, flattering her. Mom can’t ever ignore a raving fan.
“Why thank you. And I adore the Life and Love Channel. I was so surprised when Jack Roberts stepped down. He’d been head over there for years. He would send me a script now and then, but nothing ever felt right. Is there um…something you’re working on now?”
“Yes, ideas are percolating. Slowly. Uh, but my first solo script, A Little Luck at Christmas, premieres this season.”
“Congratulations. Who is your studio head now?”
“Brandon Miller.”
“Hm. Don’t think I know of him.”
“He came over from the ScienceFly channel.”
“Ah. Well, if you ever come across a part you’d like me to consider, don’t hesitate to reach out.
” My mother offers her hand to shake along with her signature smile, looking so genuine but obviously fake to me, having grown up with her for years.
I know her well. That’s the actress in her coming out.
I marvel at the way these two can talk shop, but I know my mother. While Anastasia is probably giddy that a well-known celebrity is asking about her next project, my mother is working an angle here, and I need to get to the bottom of it.
“Miles, I like her. How refreshing to see you dating a woman with a brain in her head.” My mother is seriously annoying and I’m irritated as hell.
“Anastasia, can you wait for me by the door, please? I’ll only be a moment.
” She nods and moves away, while I gesture to the far opposite corner for Mom to follow me so we can have a private family chat.
“What are you doing, sucking up to my date like that when I’ve heard you say time and again you’d never be a Life and Love actress? What gives?”
My mother smooths her hair with one hand, sighing. “Things change, Miles. Or in my case, I’m being forced to.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Light of Day producers are planning to kill off her character,” Esme interjects. Last thing I expected to hear, I jerk my head back.
“Those assholes.” Mom lashes out. “After all the years I put into that show—I am the show—how dare they? But I won’t go down without a fight.
When my agent last renegotiated my contract, the exit clause includes an all-expenses paid nationwide farewell tour.
But I’ll have the last laugh because I’m writing a memoir, a tell all.
I plan to hire the best ghostwriter in the biz.
I’ve started spilling my guts into audiotapes every single night.
As soon as my agent lands me a publisher with a multi-million dollar book deal, I’ll get my revenge.
The minute my book hits the best-seller stands, they’ll be sorry.
I’ll have a book tour around the world, a movie made of my life—starring me, of course. And—”
I cut off her grand delusions and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Mother. What does this have to do with the foundation and your little announcement on stage?”
“I simply won’t have time for this anymore.”
I grimace. “Fine. I’ll take it over.”
“You-you will? Oh, that’s wonderful, darling.
What a relief. Your father would be so proud.
” She laughs and exchanges a strange look with Esme.
Dread fills me. These two are always up to something.
“We’ll square up these donations tonight and have our lawyers draft up something to transfer the foundation over to you in a few months. ”
“There’s more, isn’t there?” I dare ask, bracing myself. They hesitate. “Mom? Tell me.” My jaw locks, preparing for the worst until finally her shoulders droop.
“Fine. The money is gone. Our portion of the trust anyway, and since I’ll be killed off the show…
There goes my income,” she lowers her voice.
I doubt Anastasia can hear a word of our conversation across the room and she has her nose in her phone, anyway.
But that doesn’t stop me from blowing a gasket.
“Jesus, there were millions in that account. How could you spend it all?” I’m grateful my part of the trust is secure.
“It takes a lot to maintain our lifestyle,” Esme says. I don’t doubt it. Mom’s had more work done to keep her looking younger than her real age. She can spend a million on Rodeo Drive in a day like it’s nothing.
“Haven’t you ever heard of getting a real job?” I stab back at Esme.
“Hey, I work hard as her personal assistant. If not me, she’d be paying someone else. Might as well be me, and Mother and I work well together.”
“In other words, you’re Mom’s right-hand-yes-ma’am. You need to learn when to tell her no.”
Mom steals a look at Anastasia. “Please keep your voice down. Look, tonight we’re hoping to get ahead with these donations—”
“Fuck!” The curse escapes my lips. Anastasia raises a brow across the way. I grumble lower. “What are you suggesting? Embezzling from your own foundation?”
“I’m so sorry, Miles.” She sniffles. Dramatic tears fall. And there’s Esme at her elbow with tissues as if on cue.
“Why didn’t you just ask me for a loan until you get this-this book deal or another acting gig?” I pace away, running a hand through my hair. I need these two cut out of my life and there’s only one way to do it.
I return to them, pissed that I’m even offering.
“Send me an entire accounting of the past year. I’ll work up a reasonable living allowance and set you both up until you find work again.
The money stops once you find work, though.
And if you get a book deal in the millions, I expect to be paid back every cent. ”
“Oh,” Mom gushes, lifting her hand to my cheek.
“Thank you, my love.” The hug comes next.
The entire time, I die inside. When Esme awkwardly tries to join in, I lightly push her away.
The entire situation makes me ill. “You were always such a good, kind, caring man, like your father. He loved you so much.”
Something snaps inside of me and I pull her arms from around me. “Don’t talk to me about my father and love in the same breath when you’re the one who broke his heart.”
Mother’s sweetness turns sour, her eyes blasting a frost. She’s an expert at turning emotions on and off from one second to the next. “Are you ever going to forgive me for my little transgression? Your father did.”
“And he was a fool. Somewhere along the way, you stopped caring about him.”
“Ugh, Miles, please. I have a headache coming on the size of the San Fernando Valley,” she throws out with such dramatic flair. But it works. She got what she wanted out of me. “We’ll be in touch with the information.”
And with that, Barbara St. James struts to the door, but not without a final word to Anastasia.
“Darling, I wish you and Miles nothing but the best. Now, here’s my card. Will you pass it along to Brandon Miller? Tell him I’d be happy to entertain any and all scripts and offers the studio would like to send my way.”
“Absolutely, Mrs. St. James,” my date replies, apparently still star struck. Wouldn’t that be something if she actually proves the lifeline to Mom’s next starring role?
“Please, call me Barbara. With any luck, you could be practically family. Look at you and those beautiful child-bearing hips.”
“Mother!” My voice roars across the room.
“All I’m saying is if you were to finally have a child, I would be so pleased, Miles. I’m sure your father would be smiling from his grave knowing the St. James blood line continues.”
I’m fuming. If only she knew the heartbreaking reality of my past.
She continues this one-act play for Anastasia’s benefit. “Oh, my husband would have been a wonderful grandfather. I mean, I was never quite ready to be a grandmother. You know, I certainly don’t look like one.” She cackles in that haughty way that drives me insane as she slips out the door.
Esme grins at me like a conniving little witch. “I am glad to be done with this whole foundation business. It was too much work. After all, he wasn’t my father, was he?”
As she walks out the door, I spit, “You didn’t deserve a father like mine. Your father was a fucking plumber!”
The door shuts behind Esme, leaving Anastasia in a very awkward position, shifting heel to heel. I’ll bet the last thing she expected was to be privy to the St. James family dramedy.
I glance sideways at her, full of regret now that I pulled her into this night with me. “I’m sorry you had to witness all of that. Those two drive me insane, which is why I rarely deal with them if I can help it.”
I turn toward the window and stare out, trying to regulate my pulse to normal levels. The years tumble over in my head. We had some good ones as a family, others not so good. The relationship Mom and Dad had was not an ideal example of love.
I shove my hands in my pockets, the familiar feel of the rabbit’s foot giving me something to hold. To think there was a time I thought I could do better, and vowed to. But that didn’t turn out well. Getting lucky at love isn’t in the cards for me.
The room is painfully quiet for a minute until I hear feet softly padding across the carpeted floor.
“Are you okay?” Anastasia’s gentle voice comes from behind me and I turn with every intention to get her a car ride home and be done with this date. But she takes my breath away. My Angel is still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
I clear my throat. “I will be once I get a stiff drink in my hands. Look, I know we haven’t been here long, but can we get the hell out of here?”
“Oh. Sure.” She peeks down at her costume, running a hand down the front of it, hiding the disappointment that rings in her undertone. I can’t have that.
“Let me make it up to you. I know a great place where we can drink and dance, and turn this night around. Okay?” I release the rabbit’s foot in my pocket, and reach out with my finger and thumb, lifting her chin until her warm eyes lock with mine.
“Tell me our date hasn’t expired yet, angel. It’s not even midnight.”
I take her grin as a yes and lead her by the hand out the door. We bale on this place, heading out of the building, when suddenly Anastasia stops in her tracks.
“Angel, what’s wrong?”
The look of pure horror crosses her face, eyes wide, mouth open.
“Dad?” She stares at a man coming toward us, his arm intimately around another woman. I recognize him, a famous actor my mother knows, but he doesn’t stop. She calls again. “Dad?”
The man passes her by, giving her barely a glance. “Oh, hello Anastasia.” Then he continues on, not stopping to hug or talk.
Devastation crosses her face, reddening by the second. Tears brim her eyes.
I lean down and look her square in the face. “What is it? Did he hurt you?”
“Get me out of here, please.” Teardrops stream down her cheeks and her lips wobble. Now there’s two of us needing a stiff drink.
I have a mind to go tap the man on the shoulder and introduce him to my right hook, but I don’t know if that’ll make things worse for her. But I will get to the bottom of this.
No one hurts the little angel and gets away with it.