Brody

 

Gayle had been giving me a weird look since she had shown up at the cabin. After the tenth sneak peek, I sighed and looked over. “What?”

She was pulling into the lot, and I watched as she parked behind a trailer. “Nothing.”

I climbed out, grabbing my bag of extra clothes from the backseat. Shutting my door, I shot her a look back over the top of the car. “That look doesn’t say nothing. It says something. What’s going on with you?”

She paused, resting her arm on the car. “It’s just . . . you look good, like really good.”

I only shrugged. “I worked out a lot. I went on runs every day, and I did a whole bunch of meditation shit.”

“You weren’t drinking?”

“I already told when you checked on me, and every time you called—no. No booze. I swear. I didn’t even leave the property. You bought me enough food to last the week.”

“No, I know.” She held a hand up, as if she were going to back off. “You look good. I’m proud of you.”

I noted, dryly, “I never had a drinking problem. I just drank too much.”

“Brody!”

Shanna shouted my name. She waved, trying not to drop the clipboard she was holding, and Gayle and I headed her way.

Gayle said, “You drank too much for eight months.”

I wanted to remind her why I started, but bit the words down. It didn’t matter. In her eyes, it was time to get moving forward, and I needed to follow through. I signed a contract. I agreed to do this movie, and I was so damned grateful for it.

“Brody!” Shanna said again, opening her arms and engulfing me in a hug. She clasped me to her, patting my back twice. “It’s good to see you. Shit. You look good, real good.” She held me at arm’s length, holding on to my biceps. “You’re right, Gayle. He looks a hundred percent better. Whatever you did, it worked. You look like the actor we hired for this movie and not a washed-up drunk. Damn time.”

“Thank you.”

There were so many smart-ass comments I could’ve made then, but I refrained.

“No more drinking?”

“No more drinking.”

Shanna glanced to Gayle, who nodded. “That’s what he said, and it seems to be the case.”

I leveled them both with a look. “You guys are so trusting, I’m amazed.”

Shanna laughed, patting me one last time before gesturing back toward the cameras. “We had to rearrange the schedule. Did you get the updated script?”

I nodded. “Gayle dropped it off when she checked on me.”

“Fabulous.” Shanna waved over my shoulder. “Your trailer is behind you, and you have thirty minutes before your scene starts. Now scoot. We’ve wasted enough time. We only have so much sunlight.”

I didn’t need the thirty.

Fifteen minutes later, Kara and I were running lines until Shanna signaled for us to start filming. I checked my watch. It was exactly another fifteen minutes later. Shanna was punctual, which was a benefit because everything had to run smoothly or our shooting time would’ve lasted until the next day. Instead, she called the final cut for the night ten hours later. It was around eight in the evening.

I was doing the math. I could run home and head out for a “run” if I needed to find Morgan, but when I headed back for Gayle’s car, Kara stopped me.

“What are you doing tonight?”

She picked up her pace to match mine.

I was ready for the pick-up line or the sultry smiles, but neither came. She’d also been professional the whole day of shooting.

“I was planning on heading back and going for a run.”

Her eyebrow rose. She smoothed a hand down her hair, flicking out a piece of grass. “The crew and I were heading to Juan’s. It’s a Mexican restaurant in town. They have good chips and salsa. Want to come?”

I started to decline, but there was an extra look in her eyes. It wasn’t one that I’d seen before, and it gave me pause. I wanted to see Morgan, but having good relationships with co-workers was another leaf I should turn over.

I flashed her a grin. “No bar?”

She ducked her head, the back of her neck reddening as she shrugged. “We’re trying to be supportive of you.”

I had to go.

“Yeah, I’m down.” I turned to Gayle, who joined our conversation. “How about it, boss?”

She barked out a laugh. “Ha!”

“You can have a margarita. I won’t be tempted.” I winked at her. “Promise.”

Her laughter faded. She grew more serious, the old hawk-like look entering her eyes. “Okay. But if you start craving some booze, you tell me right away. I’ll leave with you.”

The only thing I’d be craving was Morgan. “I’ll be fine.”

Her elbow playfully nudged my side. “All right. Let’s head to town.”

Kara asked, “Could I get a ride with you guys?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gayle waved toward the car. She hollered back, “We can take one or two more!”

And in the end, the actress who played Peter’s sister, one of the production assistants, and Kara rode with us. They’d sectioned off a private area in the back of the restaurant, and when I stepped inside, I felt like a thankful asshole.

Thank God I had come, and an asshole because this whole thing was for me.

A large sign that read Welcome Back, Brody hung from the ceiling against the far wall. Most of the crew was already there, and when they spotted us, they started clapping and whistling.

“You guys.” A large smile spread over my face. I couldn’t take this in. “This was planned for me?”

One of the actors came forward. “If you didn’t come, we were just going to pull the sign down. It was a last-minute idea.” He nodded to Kara.

I turned to her. “Yours?”

An almost shy smile peeked out. “I just wanted to be supportive.”

“Yeah!” A camera guy held up his glass. “All water.”

I laughed and then waved my hands. “You guys, this is amazing, but please, for the love of my sanity, drink. I was drinking too much to deal with my brother’s death, but I’ll be fine. Really.”

Gayle stepped around me, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “He really is doing better. He’s been glowing every time I checked on him the past week.”

“Were you actually resting for the week, or you were jacking off the whole time?” the water guy asked with a wink.

“No comment. How about that?”

They all laughed as we sat. I was at the end with Gayle, Kara, and the girl playing Peter’s sister. At one point during the conversation, Gayle leaned in and said, “Her real name is Kelly.”

“Ah. Thank you.”

Then I remembered I did know. I’d forgotten, but Gayle patted my arm. “Don’t feel bad. You’re at the top. They just have to know your name.”

I lowered my voice. “That makes me sound like an elitist asshole.”

Gayle shrugged. “It is what it is. I guarantee that in your first role, the lead roles didn’t know your name.”

It didn’t matter. I wasn’t above these guys. I just had more lines and got a bigger check. We were all together in this project, and I hadn’t been pulling my weight. Feeling a good dose of humility, I signaled one of the waitresses down. “At the end of the night, make sure I get the bill?”

Her eyes darted around. “We were told to bill the director.”

I looked too. “And she isn’t here, so it’s on me.”

She nodded. “Okay.” She gestured to my empty glass. “Would you like anything stronger than water?”

“Yes.”

Gayle stilled, overhearing.

I added, “I’ll take a soda.”

Gayle glared. “Jerk.”

As the waitress left, I grinned. “That’s what you get for eavesdropping.”

“That’s my job. I eavesdrop on you in general. Haven’t you figured that out?”

“Shit.” I’d never thought of it that way. “You’re right, you do.”

“And I’m good at my job.”

I saluted her with my empty glass. “Cheers to you for being my own personal busybody.”

She laughed and then rolled her eyes. “You aren’t that bad of a client.”

I grinned lazily at her. I was a hot mess when she took me on, and she knew it. “Really. Thank you.”

She nodded back, a tear forming in the corner of her eye. She flicked it away and laughed a little too loudly. “I’m taking you up on that margarita.” She raised her hand for a waitress, saying to me, “You might be driving yourself back tonight.”

I could do that. Happily. Which is what happened.

I stayed until karaoke began and three of the crewmembers were croaking out “Sweet Caroline” in their best rendition of Blue Whale. Kara promised to take Gayle with them to the hotel, and with that, I took the keys and headed out. I didn’t quite remember the way back to the Kellerman estate, so I programmed it into the GPS and kept a cautious eye out for the mustang herd.

The drive there was longer than I expected, but it was uneventful.

I was driving past the main house when the front door flew open and someone started waving frantically, trying to get my attention. Pulling to the garage, I got out. I was pocketing the keys when I got a good look at who was coming down the walkway in my direction.

“Jenny? Is that you?”

She had the same long brown hair, smatter of freckles over her smooth complexion, and dark brown eyes. She ran up to me, looking exactly the same as the last time I saw her, only this time she was dressed.

“You look good.” I patted her on the back before stepping back and adding, “Strong.”

“Marathon training. I’m hoping to get Finn to run with me.”

“How long’s it been?”

“Eight months.” Her sparkling brown eyes turned somber, and it clicked then.

I was with her that weekend. We had our three-day affair right before the movie premiere. Right before . . . Kyle.

I raked a hand through my hair. The air was suddenly not so light anymore. “I never called you back.” At all. “I’m sorry, Jen.”

She lifted a shoulder, but her smile slipped a little. “I understood. I tried reaching out.”

She had. I wanted to tell her it meant something to me. I listened to her message. Her voice had been friendly. There’d been no anger, or resentment, but I never called her back because I hadn’t cared one bit.

I didn’t want to lie so I only gave her a half-grin. “I blacked out a lot of that time.”

Which wasn’t completely true. I forgot parties. I forgot whomever I was using to make myself forget, because the truth was that I couldn’t forget anything about Kyle, about the funeral, about the phone call, about the noise of the crash, about the dial tone.

I was raw all over again and needed a drink . . . or Morgan.

I needed Morgan.

“I hear congratulations are in order for you.” I made sure to put a cheerful ring in my voice.

She grasped my arm, squeezing me from excitement. “I met Finn that week, actually. Everything worked out.”

No.

Everything hadn’t.

Kyle hadn’t.

“Uh, yeah.”

Fuck. Where was Morgan? I had to go.

The front door opened, and Jen glanced over her shoulder, sighing a little. “He makes me really happy, and”—she stepped close—“he’s really nervous about you because you’re the big-time actor. I know you’ve technically met, but he knows about you and me. Be nice? Please?”

I heard footsteps on the sidewalk drawing close.

I nodded but pushed her back a little. Once she was at a distance the fiancé wouldn’t want to deck me about, I grinned. “You know me. I’m always nice.”

Finn drew to us, and I ignored Jen’s rolling eyes. My smile widened. “Finn.” I held out my hand. “I know we met the night I arrived, but I never congratulated you on the engagement.”

He seemed cautious but shook my hand in a firm grip before nodding, “Yeah. Thank you.” His eyes darted between her and me. “I wasn’t sure if this would be awkward or not.” He stepped up, his arm going around her shoulders.

“Not awkward. Not at all.” I gestured around us. “Are you two going to tie the knot here? It’d be a beautiful setting.” Most people liked that shit.

“Oh—” Jen started, her head tilting back an inch.

Finn spoke over her, “I’d love that.” His eyes darted around behind me. “Something about this place. It brings the whole family together.”

Family.

Yeah.

I understood whom he was referring to, but the burning was still in my throat from my own situation. It spread to my chest, and it was only going to get worse. Kyle’s ghost was back full-force.

“Yeah,” I said. “I get that.”

And then we heard a soft voice say, “You’re Brody’s friend?”

We turned, and everything stopped in that moment because this was fucking climactic stuff.

Standing behind me, as if materializing out of the darkness was Morgan.