Chapter Twenty-Eight
Micah woke up with a hangover from hell. He peered over at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Ten forty-seven a.m. How come it felt so much earlier?
He lay in bed, massaging his temples for several minutes to no avail. Finally, he staggered to the bathroom for Advil only to find an empty bottle in his medicine cabinet. Dammit.
He relieved himself and splashed water on his face, then ventured downstairs in search of pain reliever. Dressed only in his boxers and squinting to shield his eyes from the bright light of day, he stumbled to the kitchen of his Brentwood mansion. Fudge sat on a stool at the island, eating a bowl of cold cereal, reading the latest Walking Dead comic book.
“Morning,” Fudge greeted around a mouthful of Cinnamon Life.
Micah groaned, heading straight for the stainless steel refrigerator. “Could you crunch a little less loudly, please?” He opened the freezer cabinet, pulled out a package of frozen peas—when on earth had he purchased frozen peas?—and placed the vegetables over his throbbing forehead.
Fudge tsked. “Feeling the effects of last night? I’m not surprised. I think you drank all the tequila.”
“Tequila?” Micah leaned back against the cool stainless steel door. “I thought I was drinking vodka.”
“That was the night before.”
The night before, that’s right. How many nights had he spent in a drunken haze now? Let’s see, since Tuesday after he’d last seen Maddie. What was that…five nights ago, now? Christ, if he kept this up he was going to be an alcoholic in no time.
Micah threw down the peas and rubbed his hands over his face. “Do you know where I can find some Tylenol or something?”
Fudge waited until he swallowed to speak. “There should be some in the cabinet under the minibar.”
“Good place for them.”
He made his way to the minibar in the dining room off the kitchen. There he found a bottle of aspirin, emptied two small pills into his hand and downed them with the rest of the almost empty bottle of Cuervo Gold. Hair of the dog that bit him, he reasoned.
After tossing the finished Cuervo into the trash, he opened the minibar’s fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. “Do I have anything going on today?” he asked as he returned to the kitchen.
Fudge flipped a page in his comic book. “Hmm? I don’t think so.”
Even the sound of pages flipping irritated Micah. He took a swig of water, wishing it was something stronger. “What time do I have to be at the award show tomorrow?” He paused. “That is tomorrow, isn’t it?”
Fudge dropped his spoon in his bowl, causing an annoying clank. “Am I your secretary now?”
His friend had been teasing, but Micah wasn’t in the mood. “You’re my half-assed bodyguard who lives free of charge in my pool house. Excuse me for thinking you could maybe pull a little weight around here.”
“Grumpy.” Fudge rolled his eyes then crossed to the kitchen laptop. He clicked on a desktop icon and turned the screen to Micah. “Here. I pulled up your calendar.”
Micah massaged his scalp, trying to rub away his irritation. “Ooo, thanks. What effort that must have taken.”
“What the fuck is your problem? You’ve been in a foul mood all week.”
Micah ignored Fudge and glanced at the laptop. Yep. America’s Choice Awards were scheduled for the next day. At least he wasn’t up for an award. He was just a presenter—a much easier job with very little focus on him from the press.
“In fact,” Fudge was still talking. “You’ve been in a foul mood since that investment meeting you went to about Maddie’s movie.”
Micah scowled at her name. He didn’t want to think about her, hence the recent large consumptions of alcohol. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pulled the laptop closer, not really looking at it, but trying to discourage Fudge from conversation.
Fudge wasn’t deterred at all. “Come to think of it, you’ve been a bitch since the last week of filming. Since right around when Maddie left production.”
Ow, her name again.
Fudge patted Micah on the back. “Did the standard Preston brush-off not go well?”
Micah let out a groan. Even though the two of them were good friends, he didn’t share much emotional crap with Fudge. What he knew about Micah’s personal life was from observation and interrogation. Interrogating was today’s tactic.
“I didn’t give her the standard Preston brush-off. We ended things mutually.” Only a partial lie. She wanted one thing, he wanted another. They’d both had a chance to let it not end, and neither of them took it.
“Then why are you moping over her, dude?”
Micah shut the laptop lid. It wasn’t like he was really looking at the computer screen anyway. “I’m not.”
Fudge pulled a near-empty bag of Cheetos from the pantry. “You’re certainly moping over something and every time I say the name Maddie Bauers—”
Micah winced.
“You wince. What’s that about?”
Damn Fudge and his inquisition. He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “She wants me to be a silent partner.”
“So?” He popped a Cheeto in his mouth and grimaced. “These are stale as crap.” He put another three in his mouth, crunching noisily.
“They’re from before Colorado. I’ll put them on the list for the housekeeper. She won’t be here until Monday, though.”
“That’s cool.” Fudge ate another Cheeto. “Anyway, I thought you were just helping Maddie out financially. Are you interested in contributing creatively?”
Micah watched Fudge as he put yet another Cheeto in his mouth. “Why do you keep eating them if they’re bad?”
Fudge shrugged. “Why aren’t you answering my question?”
Micah took another swig of his water, noticing that his head felt the slightest bit better. Talking no longer seemed quite so unbearable. “I’m not interested in contributing creatively.” How could he explain how he felt about being sidelined on Maddie’s movie? “I just…I don’t know…I really enjoyed talking through the process with her. It made me remember why I loved this whole business in the first place because she’s still so fresh about it. She has a good eye, very creative. Super intelligent. And when she gets a new idea or hits a roadblock, she likes to bounce it off someone.” He paused, remembering. “She’ll get all fidgety and she starts pacing and talking with her hands. And her beautiful brown eyes get all big and bright.” He smiled. “By the time she’s finished telling it, she’s always worked it out herself, but it’s stimulating to be near her when…what?”
Fudge was staring at Micah, his mouth gaping. “You’re in love with her.”
“Whatever.” Micah crossed to the fridge and opened it, pretending to look for something to eat, even though he had zero appetite.
Fudge slammed his hand on the counter. “You’re totally in love with her!” He chuckled. “Does she know?”
“No,” Micah answered quickly. Too quickly. He backtracked. “There’s nothing to know. Just drop it.” He shut the refrigerator door.
Fudge wasn’t dropping it. He followed Micah outside to the veranda. “Why the hell did you break things off with her?”
“I have rules, remember?” God, the sun was bright. “No dating. No serious relationships.”
“It’s your own stupid rule. You can break it.”
“The rule exists for a reason. It’s not stupid.” Micah circled back into the house, out of the blinding sun, Fudge in tow. “It’s a proven fact that relationships in this town do not work.”
“Then why were you seeing her in the first place?”
He stopped walking and turned to face Fudge. “Exactly. No clue.”
Fudge shook his head as if disgusted.
So Micah amended his statement. “Because she made me think that maybe I was wrong. But I wasn’t.” Except he hadn’t known if he was wrong or not. He’d wanted to see what happened with her. He sighed. “I asked her if she wanted to keep seeing me on the down-low.” He wandered into the den and threw himself facedown on the couch. “But she didn’t want that.”
Fudge sat on the couch arm and threw the bag of Cheetos on the coffee table. “She didn’t want to see you anymore?” Surprise laced his voice.
“I didn’t say that exactly,” Micah said into the couch pillow.
“Hmm.” Fudge stood and crossed to where he could look at Micah directly. Then he walked toward the kitchen, but returned a second later, his arms crossed.
Micah leaned himself up on one elbow. “Do you have something to say?”
“Yes, I do.” Fudge took a deep breath. “You’re an asshole.”
“What?”
“You’re a selfish asshole.”
Micah moved to a sitting position. “Selfish. That’s what she said.”
“Because you are. Dude, you probably don’t know this since you’ve had, like, zero experience with any relationship that lasts longer than an hour, but when you love someone, you do things in the best interest of you as a couple, not just you as a superstar. You can’t give up your playboy status to see where things go with Maddie?”
Micah leaned forward. “I need more time without the press to see how things go.”
“Bullshit.”
“What do you fucking know about it?”
“I’m always with you, Micah. I know all about it. I know all about you. You want more time to come up with another excuse about why it’s not going to work out. Because heaven forbid things did work out and you found out all your years of self-imposed solitude were a waste of your life.”
Micah sat back into the couch and pulled the pillow into his lap. “Whatever. I’m not talking about this with you anymore.”
Fudge’s eyes traveled to a spot behind Micah. “Fine with me. You can discuss it with Lulu.”
“I’m not discussing shit with Lulu.”
“Micah?”
Lulu’s voice behind him made Micah jump up, the pillow flying from his lap to the floor. “Mom!” Fuck. He looked and felt like shit, not to mention he was only in his boxers, and now he had to deal with his mother.
Micah circled around the couch to hug Lulu. “You didn’t say you were stopping by. If I’d known you were coming, I’d have gotten dressed.”
“I’ve seen you in less. I’ve watched your movies, remember?”
“Yeah, right.” He didn’t want to think about the fact that Lulu had seen his bare ass on-screen. “So, what are you doing here?”
“Chris called me.”
Micah turned to Fudge and delivered his best death glare. “I wonder why he would do that.”
Lulu threw her purse down on a side table. “He was worried, and I can see why.”
Christ. Lulu, too? “There’s no reason to be worried.” As he talked, Micah straightened the room, both because it was trashed and because he needed something to help him avoid his mother’s eyes. “I’m a little hung over, that’s all. You know how we celebrate when a shoot is over.”
“Micah, I know it’s not the movie. You don’t have to pretend.”
He bent over to pick up the pillow that had fallen off the couch. “What do you mean?” He was afraid to find out the answer.
“I told her.” And Fudge’s tone said he didn’t regret it at all.
Micah’s eyes flitted from Lulu to his bodyguard. “What exactly did you tell her?”
Lulu’s face softened with compassion. “He told me everything, Micah. About Madalyn.”
If Micah could kill Fudge with a simple stare, he was sure this was the stare that would do it.
“I told her the truth. That you’re hung up on Maddie but you’re being an asswipe about it. Excuse my language, Lulu.”
Lulu smiled reassuringly. “You’re fine, Chris. From what you told me, I think asswipe is more than appropriate.”
Micah threw the pillow down onto the couch in complete frustration. “Why are you on his side? You didn’t even want me to stay here to work on her film.”
“I didn’t know you were in love with her. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What do you care about love?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You left your marriage, Mom. You chose your career over love.”
Lulu’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “No, I didn’t.”
“Oh, really?”
Lulu circled the couch and came to Micah’s side. “I chose to leave a bad marriage, Micah, and threw my energy instead into a career.”
“Yeah, that’s not how Dad put it.”
“Your father could never admit we had problems. He wanted to blame it all on my acting. But that wasn’t it at all.”
Micah shook his head. This conversation made his eyes cross. He sat heavily on the couch. Why hadn’t he ever discussed this with his mother? All these years he’d just assumed. “But you haven’t dated since you left Dad. You’ve been totally focused on your career and then my career.”
Lulu laughed as she sat next to Micah. “I have too dated. Just because I haven’t shared it with you doesn’t mean I didn’t do it.”
Seriously. Micah’s whole concept of life was shattering before his eyes. His mom dated? Like, men? “Are you kidding me?”
“Not at all. Actually—” Her face colored slightly as she looked down at her white linen pants. “Stu and I have been dating casually for the last several months.”
No. Fucking. Way.
Micah spun to look at Fudge. “Did you know about this?”
Fudge shrugged.
“Micah, honey.” Lulu put her hand on his knee. “Maybe I’ve been too single-minded about you and your career. And maybe I’ve lived vicariously through you and that put a lot of pressure on you. But all I really want is for you to be happy.”
Micah swallowed. “I’m happy. I like where my life is at.”
“That’s a total fucking lie.” Fudge sat on the chair across from the sofa. “Yeah, you’re at the top of your career. You demand top pay. You can pick and choose each project. You’ve been Golden Globe nominated, for Christ’s sake, but you’re still a miserable sack of shit. Have you considered that there might be more to life than money and making movies?”
Micah frowned. He had considered it. A lot, lately. Truth was the only upcoming project he felt completely excited about was Maddie’s, and frankly, her movie could have sucked and he’d still feel the same. He relished that he was a part of making her dream a reality. He wanted to be part of every aspect of it just to watch her delight, just to be near her.
And if he was really being honest, he wanted to be part of every aspect of everything she did. He wanted to be her partner and her friend and her lover. Her everything.
Fuck. Fudge was right. He was totally in love with Maddie, and he knew it. Why was he being such a prick about admitting it?
Oh, yeah, that’s right. Because he didn’t believe that relationships in his world had any chance of surviving. But that idea had been largely based on his parents’ failed marriage. And now his mother was telling him that his whole concept of their divorce was a lie? He couldn’t even comprehend anything anymore.
He glanced at Lulu beside him.
“Micah, if this girl is what makes you happy, then you should be with her.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “But we’ll be apart so much. And the paparazzi is not kind.”
“But if you really love someone, honey, those things don’t matter.” Lulu patted his leg once. “Who cares what the press says? Who cares what anyone says? They don’t know. And as for the distance and the schedules, you make compromises. You work together. As long as you keep communicating and sharing what’s going on in your head—and your heart—you can make anything happen.”
She turned her head until she met Micah’s eyes. “It’s not any different than building a film career. You just choose to work on each other as much as you choose to work on your own stuff.”
God, he was such a dick. And he couldn’t figure it out until his mother sat him down and told him the obvious. What was he, twelve?
He ran his hand over his eyes, rubbing out the last bits of sleep crusties that still clung to his lashes. “Mom, I think I’ve fucked up pretty bad.”
“Then un-fuck up.”
He chuckled at his mother’s uncharacteristic swearing. “How? She won’t answer my calls. I agreed to not go to meetings about her movie.” Micah considered. “I could send her flowers.”
Lulu shook her head with a frown.
“Nah, that’s lame,” Fudge agreed. “Your last romantic gesture was a hot air balloon ride. You need to do something drastic to top that. You know what they say, ‘Go big or go home.’”
Drastic. Micah’s brain started whirring, somewhat slowly due to his hung-over state. “Got any ideas?”
Fudge shrugged, reaching for the Cheetos. “You’re Micah Preston,” he said, popping one in his mouth. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”