I TURNED OFF THE mixer and then poured the contents into a medium sauce pan. Tinley helped herself to another glass of wine. Three months, three very long, self-pleasuring months and as much hell as it had been, having her here now was a gift.
Over the last months, women slipped me their phone numbers, their panties, and their room keys. Even my co-star slipped into my trailer one afternoon. Dozens of women, I could have had any one of them, but all I wanted was Tinley. She had taken up permanent residence in my life, despite the miles of earth that stretched between us.
Now, we had time—time to reconnect, not that we needed it, because it felt as if no time had passed. That feeling was a rarity, of that I was well aware. She sat here in the kitchen, her blonde hair cascading around her shoulders in soft waves and I wanted to mess it up—again. Her grey sweater had fallen off her shoulder, and the layered gold chains and lace of her silk camisole were perfect complements to her delicate beauty. In a room full of art, I’d still look at her.
I placed the skillet on top of the burner to heat up the oil. “Now, tell me, why does a seventeen-year-old retire from acting?”
“She retires when her mother dies, and her mother’s friend”—she swallowed a sip of wine and continued with shaky breath—“who also happened to be a family friend, tries to force himself on her.”
My eyes snapped shut, and my heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. “Tinley, look at me.” I kept my voice soft and my words held an even measure. If she felt a kind of sadness or God forbid, shame, I would find out this motherfucker’s name and beat the shit out of him. It would be a true fucking pleasure. A goddamn honor.
Her blue eyes met mine. “I’m good, I promise.”
“Did he hurt you,” I swallowed thickly. “I mean, he didn’t . . .” My veins filled with an equal measure of dread and anger.
She layered her hand on top of mine, which I realized was clenched into a fist giving it a squeeze. “No, he didn’t hurt me. I had finished a scene—it was a pretty tough day. I went back to work two weeks after my mother died. I know now, I should have taken more time.”
“You can’t dwell on that,” I offered, rubbing the pad of my thumb against her knuckles.
She smiled. “I know and I don’t, it’s just something that enters my thoughts when I think about self-care. I had a breakdown on set and he ushered me to his dressing room. He held me in his arms and hugged me. This was an adult that I’d hugged before, and it all felt normal. Then, he kissed me and fondled my breast.”
Every word Tinley spoke I heard. She pointed to the stove and I stepped back to check the sauce. She gestured to the tortillas, and I poured the oil into the skillet.
“I pushed him away and slapped his face,” she said, nodding in my direction.
“I would have kicked him in the balls.”
She swallowed the rest of her wine. “Trust me, I thought about it, but I just wanted to get the fuck out of there.”
I dipped the tortillas into the oil one at time. This was a horrible story, and I wanted to wrap my arms around her and kiss her and ask her a hundred questions. But, this wasn’t about what I wanted from the conversation, this was about Tinley, and the fact that she was opening up to me, sharing something really deep and personal.
“Aunt Maggie wanted to have him fired. She had that kind of power, still does. I told her that I didn’t want to make waves. I just wanted to leave the show. Besides none of it felt right without my mother being there, she was my biggest cheerleader.”
“Where is this guy now?”
She brought her sweater back up and over her shoulder. “No longer with the show, obviously.” She expelled a deep breath. “He’s in Los Angeles—married, three kids, still acting, which is fine. I’m pretty confident that my aunt didn’t let the matter go that easily.”
“How do you mean?”
She fingered the gold chains around her neck. “This is only speculation, but a few months after I left the show, he didn’t renew his contract and he took some time away from the spotlight. With his ego, there was no way he would have done that, I just don’t believe it.”
“And you think that Maggie had something to do with his short-lived hiatus.”
“I do.” Her smile returned. “For a long time, Aunt Maggie was the only family I had, a dependable family member anyway.”
I checked the sauce and added in a pinch of salt for taste. “What about your dad?”
“After my mom died, Dad poured himself into his work. Late nights, turned into even later nights. There were days I didn’t even see him. On top of being alone, I couldn’t stand being in the penthouse where Mom died day after day. With Aunt Maggie’s help, I got into a boarding school in Switzerland.” She pushed to her feet and took a drink of wine. “When I came home for Christmas, my father introduced me to Gianna, and while I thought the relationship had been fast, he was happy. Dad doesn’t know about what happened. All he knows is that I wanted to focus on my studies and prepare for life at Columbia.”
“I know that you’re not going to tell me the guy’s name, but you know that if I do find out, well, let’s say it won’t be pretty.”
“I know, but you know that you don’t need to go all caveman on my behalf, right?”
After placing the last tortilla on the plate, I wiped my hands and came around the island to kiss Tinley. “I know.” Everything inside me demanded that I kiss her deeply and hold her close, so close that all those memories dissolved into ash.
“Well, now that that matter is settled, are you going to feed me or what, Matthew Barber? I mean you’ve basically made me your sex slave, the least you can do is give a girl a meal.”
“I plan to feed you.” Wrapping my arms around her waist, I kissed her again. “You’re going to need fuel to keep your strength up.”
“Maybe it’s you who needs the strength.”
“Maybe.”
The strength I needed was to keep from asking her to leave her life in East Harbour behind and move in here with me. The two of us didn’t spend time defining our relationship, but I was ready to drive this relationship towards the next level. While I was ready, I wasn’t sure it was what she wanted.
I released the hold I had on Tinley, returning my attention to the meal. Tinley was driving this machine, and I wasn’t about to crash and burn.
“Oh crap, Matthew—the sauce.”
Crash and Burn. Streaks of red splashed over my counter and walls. Tinley grabbed a handful of paper towels while I moved the sauce from the burner.
This is not a sign.
It was a damn shame to wake Tinley, but I had to leave and I didn’t want her to wake up to an empty bed. This film was taking longer than expected, which is part of the reason I bought this house. I longed for privacy, and I didn’t want to continue living in a hotel suite. I needed my own space, where my cast mates weren’t knocking on my door at all hours and inviting themselves over on a whim.
“Hey, beautiful,” I murmured against her shoulder. “I have to work today, but I will be back to make you dinner.”
She pushed straight up onto her palms. “You’re leaving?”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to.”
She sank to the bed, rolling onto her back. “Matthew, I had this fantasy that you and I would lay in bed all day watching Netflix,” she said, tucking the sheet under her breasts. “Until I needed something sweet then I would whip up some pumpkin bread or banana walnut bread all the while I planned on quizzing you about your middle name and your family.”
“You can always text me your questions,” I pointed out before kissing her lips.
“That is not the same.”
She leaned forward, drawing her arms around her knees. She looked beautiful, all that blonde hair, wild and unruly spilling over her shoulder. My willpower was cracking the longer I stayed.
“I know, and I promise that I will make it up to you.” I stood, pushing my arms through my jacket. “Feel free to make that pumpkin or banana nut bread though, it sounds delicious.”
“You’re abandoning me and you’re asking me to bake for you?”