Chapter Four
Levi
I rub at my eyes and stare unfocused at the email twisting my stomach into knots. I’ve been accepted into a two-day seminar with Leo Gaines. The event had slipped my mind, given I applied months ago and hadn’t heard anything. The class is limited to ten, the opportunity may never come around again, and the only way I can attend is if I bail on my brother-in-law. Not that I would bail on him. I’d find another cameraman to take my place, but this still causes two problems. One, Brad is already stressed out and I hate to add to it. Plus, he’s always had my back. And two, it puts me out of touch with Harper.
Weirdly, when I showed up at MASF the other morning, I was seriously thinking about telling Brad I’d find someone else for him. I know nothing about shooting PSAs. My skills have been honed on music videos, short films, and television programs, and I’m concerned about capturing the look and feel he has in mind.
Then I saw Harper sitting at the conference table. Beautiful, surprised, irritated, a little breathless. And I stuck with the job. This makes me a total ass, I know, but you don’t live with Elliot. He’s decided Operation Harper is the best thing since cronuts. And since I didn’t seal the deal last weekend, he’s convinced he’s got the bet won. Now my pride is rearing its ugly head.
But more than that, I want to be with her. I want to make her feel so good she forgets what day it is, what frustrates and pains her. Because that’s what she did for me. For one night, I completely forgot about everything and lived in the moment with the hottest, funniest, most intuitive girl I’ve ever met.
I should tell her. I should come right out and tell her I don’t want to date her, either. I just want to have sex. But I don’t trust her not to take that information and somehow use it against me.
She’s not Kayla, man.
She’s also not a random girl.
Whenever I’m around her, I fall into easy friendliness. A byproduct of our night together for sure, but also of our bond as kids, I think. Someone I was close to as a child can’t be an awful person like my ex.
I rub the bridge of my nose and slip my eyeglasses back on. The seminar is for two Saturdays. Twelve full hours with my favorite director. Twelve hours to talk about the craft of filmmaking and be inside his head. To make a connection that has the potential to advance my career in staggering ways.
People go a lifetime without spending one minute with their idol.
Fuck.
An RSVP is required by tomorrow to confirm my spot. The seminar starts next week, so I could shoot this weekend with Brad and Harper and have plenty of time to find a replacement.
A ping alerts me to a new email. It’s from Brad. I open it. He’s grateful and happy to have my help with the PSAs. The production schedule is attached, and I’ve set his mind at ease. He trusts me. He knows he can count on me.
It takes me all of two seconds to click back to my invite and respond so I can stop dwelling on it. Family always comes first. Without them, I’d still be under Kayla’s dark cloud. My parents, happily married for thirty-five years, are always my biggest supporters. My sisters and their husbands, most especially Brad, are there for me 24/7. I’m a son, brother, brother-in-law, uncle, and friend, and I’m grateful for all of it.
“You are not going to believe what happened tonight,” Elliot calls out. He’s walked into the house and said those words at least a dozen times in the last year alone. He rounds the corner into the kitchen with a satiated smile on his face, which tells me a good meal and a couple of after-work drinks are part of what happened. He works his ass off in corporate finance, and the stories he’s shared about after-hours are straight-up House of Lies.
“Michaela, the hot as hell HR supervisor visiting from New York I told you about?” He pulls off his loosened tie as he sits at the table across from me. “She took off her shirt and had me eat sushi off her stomach. Laid herself right out on the table and told me to go for it. So I did.”
“You and everyone else?”
He leans back in his chair, clasps his hands behind his head. “Just me.”
I take my glasses off and put them on the table beside my computer. “Why aren’t you at her hotel, then?”
“You think I didn’t close the deal?”
My roommate and best friend has the worst poker face ever. “She’s on her way here? Need me to set a little mood lighting for you?” I tease.
“I got it, Romeo. You just worry about yourself.”
“Nothing to worry about.”
“Yeah?” He looks around the kitchen. “I don’t see a gorgeous brunette hiding anywhere.”
I think about the highlights in Harper’s dark hair, the summer sun having woven lighter streaks through the soft strands. Then I think about Elliot’s description, and I want to claim her as mine in this weird competition between us.
“You can call off the bet,” Elliot adds. “Take your defeat and pay up.” He says this lightly, but he’s got a fucking scorecard with our bets on it, and another win for me will bring us to a tie. Christ, we’re childish douchebags sometimes. But this bet isn’t going to hurt anyone. Quite the contrary, with the plans I have for Miss McKinney. So I feel okay about winning this one.
“The bet’s still on,” I say.
“You sure?”
“Positive.” I’ve got plenty of time left to charm the pants off her.
“Good luck, then.”
I smile. I don’t need luck.
“I wonder where—” The doorbell rings, and Elliot explodes out of his chair. “That’ll be for me.” He swaggers out of the kitchen without a glance back. I listen as he greets Michaela, she giggles, and they make their way to his bedroom. He’s been on an unusual binge of hookups lately, probably because work leaves him little time for a relationship.
Smart man. Relationships will ruin you.
Even knowing this, my mind charges right back to Harper. To relieve some of the contemplations I can’t seem to get rid of, I grab a piece of plain white paper out of the printer, a pen, and write her a letter I have no intention of sending.