Chapter Twenty-Nine #3
Jared leaned back on the couch, spreading his legs wide so that both his bulge and his two erect nipples were now directly sitting in her line of sight.
“It’s a quite a thing, innit?” he mused.
“You and David, right. I hadn’t quite put it together, the disconnect I was feeling .
. . until I started ordering this bottle service here.
I mean, you can’t buy love, can you? But see, you can buy this bottle of water here.
It’s quite a nice bottle of water, right? Quite expensive, too.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” she snapped.
“It’s like when you came into rehearsal today, the moment you entered the room, I could feel all that pent-up energy wanting to be released from inside you.
I thought perhaps that you were just a highly promiscuous person .
. . and that, maybe, someone had blocked you from accessing pornography while at work. ”
“Are you freaking serious right now?”
“But you can’t go backward, can you? You can only go forward.”
Jared’s eyes landed on David. Her ex shifted in his spot but otherwise did not respond. Then again, how could anyone respond to the absolute insanity that had quickly become her spiraling and out-of-control life?
“You have a farm, right?” Jared asked suddenly.
“Oh,” David said, startled by the question. “I do.”
“What kind of animals do you have?”
“Mainly rescue,” David explained. “Chickens, goats . . . two alpacas. One of them is pregnant, in fact. Miracle. Due any day now.”
“Alpacas!” Jared beamed. “I love alpacas. They have the funniest little faces.”
This was getting out of control. All Evelyn wanted to do was get Jared, and herself, home.
The rock star, however, was making it impossible, and her ex-husband was suddenly playing Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood with the advisory committee from hell.
She tried to cut off the conversation, but it was no use. Jared refused to take the hint.
“Have you seen David’s alpacas, then?” Jared asked, turning to Evelyn.
“No,” Evelyn said, crossing her arms against her chest in a protective stance, “I haven’t.”
“And by alpacas,” he clarified, just in case it hadn’t been obvious, “I mean the Lama pacos species of camelid mammal known to South America. I don’t mean David’s penis, right?
Though I’m sure David’s penis would also be amenable to a petting zoo type of experience if you would like to give him one. ”
“Enough!” She cut him off right there.
Jared, finally, fell quiet. She turned toward David, seeking some sort of help, but he also seemed to be at a loss. In all their years tag-teaming poorly behaved celebrities, there had never been an absolute nightmare like Jared Sparks.
“I’d like to see your farm,” Jared said suddenly.
“Oh,” David said, coming back to life. “Well, of course. I’d be happy to have you over at some point.”
“Fabulous!” Jared smiled. “So, I’ll send the limo to pick you both up tomorrow.”
It took Evelyn a full twenty seconds to comprehend what Jared was throwing down.
“Absolutely not,” Evelyn shrieked.
Jared completely ignored her. Instead, he motioned to some woman in a tight black suit, who immediately came racing over, and began tapping out notes onto her phone.
“So, I’ll pick them both up first thing in the morning.
From there, we’ll take a quick jaunt to David’s farm, stay through for dinner, and then back to Manhattan by the evening. ”
The world moved in slow motion. Jared Sparks needed to be at rehearsal tomorrow.
Evelyn needed to be at rehearsal tomorrow.
There were only two days left to practice with the entire cast and crew, and instead of doing those important, contractually obligated jobs, he was demanding a field trip to the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania.
Over her dead body would she let that happen.
Thankfully, David jumped in to help her.
“It’s so cold right now,” David said.
“And you’re under contract.” Evelyn glared.
“Plus, pregnant alpacas can be kind of moody.”
“And I will sue you into the ground!”
“Really,” David said, stepping forward while pulling her back.
“It’s a great idea. I’d love to have you as a guest at my farm.
But I really think the best thing for you to do is to come after you wrap on production.
Leila needs time to prepare . . . And for your patience, I’ll even make you a beautiful farm-to-table dinner. ”
Jared, however, was still not won over. He sighed, long and dramatically, fanning himself with one hand like he was wearing enough clothing to actually be warm . . . and his entourage responded. Jumping up from their places, they encircled him and began fawning.
“Oh, darling, please don’t die and leave us.”
“Tell us how we can help you.”
“Here my love. Suck on my nipple. It always makes you feel better.”
“Enough,” Jared said, waving them all away.
“Thank you, all, for your love and concern . . . but I’m afraid that my energy is too sapped right now for even a beloved nipple.
The universe is warning me not to go any further.
I’m feeling peaked. My throat is parched.
My loins sucked dry . . . and not in a good way, either. ”
Someone actually tsked at Evelyn. As if Jared getting sucked dry was somehow her fault.
She repressed the urge to murder him once again—he was not going to get out of rehearsal tomorrow that easily—when Jared Sparks pulled out the big guns.
“I think I’m going to call my agent and tell him that I’m ready to go home,” he said.
“What?” Her heart stopped beating inside her chest.
“The thing is,” Jared said, suddenly very sober. “I realize this production is very important to you, but there’s a lot of bad energy on set. It pours out of you, and frankly infects me. Whenever you’re in the room, I take on this energy you carry, right? I feel sad and lonely . . . just like you.”
“I am not—” she scoffed at the insinuation “—sad and lonely.”
“Just let him finish,” David mumbled under his breath.
Jared took that as his cue to continue. “We need to unblock you, Evelyn,” Jared said, waving one hand around in the air while he spoke.
“We need to open up the reservoir of your womb, so that in the process, my loins can also be unblocked. And I feel rather strongly that the only way this can happen is by going to David’s farm together tomorrow.
You need to see the sacred earth in her most vulnerable form . . . and I need to see the alpacas.”
Yep, she was going to kill him. But before she killed him, she would start with his entourage.
Especially that one dude, in the crop top and makeup, who continued tsking his teeth at her like she was some sort of kitty fighting over territory.
Either way, she had played nice for Jared Sparks long enough.
If logic wouldn’t suffice in moving the rock star, she would drag him out by the nipples herself.
“I swear to everything that is unholy,” she said, stepping forward, “if you don’t get off this couch right this second and go home—”
David grabbed her by the arm, stopping her.
“I’m sorry,” David said, his gaze drifting between her and Jared. “Would you mind if I talk to Evelyn privately for a second?”
Jared waved his approval, and David pulled her off to the side. They found themselves by the VIP bathroom, where it was at least quiet enough to talk.
“Do it,” he said.
“Are you out of your mind?” Evelyn snapped back. “That man has the mental clarity of a mattress right now.”
“Evelyn.” David laid out his argument. “He was good. You saw him. I saw him. Maybe he’s right, okay?
Maybe he doesn’t need one more day of practice?
Let Demi handle tomorrow on set. Let Jared get his rocks off in Pennsylvania, play with some farm animals, whatever.
But if you don’t do it, Evelyn . . . I think you really might risk losing him for this production.
I just don’t think this poorly behaved rock star, in particular, is bluffing. ”
She swallowed, because David was right. She couldn’t afford to lose Jared Sparks. She had no alternative to the man. Not even a stand-in. Plus, Demi had already proven she could handle running a rehearsal without her.
Having her musical canceled because she lost the star of her show would be a career ender.
All the money spent on talent, and costumes, and puppets .
. . would culminate into bad press for her and CBS7-T studios, and millions of dollars lost. And it wouldn’t matter that Jared Sparks was a giant man-baby who had screwed them all over, breaking their contract at the last-minute. The blowback would land on her.
The executives on the twenty-seventh floor would look at her and say it was her fault.
Her failure to control the talent. Her failure for not hiring a stand-in for their standee.
Her flaws, as both an executive and a leader, for not being more assertive.
And then, among themselves, they would snicker about how they knew from the start that Evelyn Schwartz, a woman, just couldn’t cut it.
If she was lucky, she would be left to languish in the dredges of daytime television.
Because prime time, like real television—like film, like literary fiction, like all art for all time everywhere—belonged to the domain of men.
She couldn’t push past the glass ceiling, no matter how much she fought.
“It’s not fair,” she said, anguish filling up her chest. “I work so damn hard, David.”
“I know,” David said gently. “I know, okay?”
“I shouldn’t even have to play these ridiculous games!”
He cupped her elbows with his hands, meeting her eyes directly.
“But I’ll be there, okay?” His voice was so gentle.
“We’ll be there together. Let’s just do this, get through tonight and tomorrow.
You’ll still have the morning of broadcast to run a full dress rehearsal with Jared .
. .and then, you’ll go and give CBS7-T studios the best rendition of A Christmas Carol that anyone has ever seen. ”
She could feel tears coming to her eyes, and her head was splitting.
The music, and the stress, and the feel of David touching her—God, why did he always have to be so warm and comforting—causing every cell in her body to both vibrate and ache.
And David was right. Jared Sparks was remarkable onstage.
He knew all the songs and dance numbers.
He was completely charismatic, remarkable.
They would lose one day of rehearsal, but they would still have the morning before the big show to work out any kinks or issues.
She should take Jared’s deal. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it, because standing there—with David’s fingers so lovingly wrapped around her elbows—it simply hurt too much.
She didn’t want to see his farm and his life.
She didn’t want to meet his rescue chickens or his farmhand Leila, or play with his adorable freaking alpacas.
Because seeing how he lived, full and happy .
. . would mean seeing all the ways that David had moved on.
He had moved on, without her. And that, for a million reasons she still didn’t comprehend, broke her damn heart.
She didn’t know how to say these things aloud, especially to her ex-husband, the man she had loved, who had walked out on her, but she needed air. She began looking around for an escape. “I’m sorry,” she said, pushing his softness away from her. “I just can’t do this right now.”
She turned to find an exit, tears coming to her eyes.
Her vision went blurry in the process, though she wasn’t sure if that was from all the sudden emotional upheaval or a visual aura accompanying her migraine.
But she pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring both David and Jared shouting her name.
She assumed they were calling to prevent her from leaving.
Unfortunately, she didn’t see the hostess with a tray of drinks, speeding in the opposite direction. The two collided. The sound of crashing mixed with searing pain radiated through her temples, before everything went very, very dark. And finally—thank God—silent.