Excerpt from Suzanne Brockmann Presents: Fixing Frank
by Jason T. Gaffney with Ed Gaffney
Frank rang the doorbell to Terry’s house and waited. A few seconds later, the door opened a crack, but Terry didn’t even peek out. His back must’ve been against the door as he said, “No one followed you, right?”
Frank stood there, still dressed only in his boxers and a wet shirt, and stared at the door. Yes, they’d won the challenge. But he was still pissed. And he didn’t get less pissed when Terry stuck his head out the door, and peered up and down the street like they were in some kind of dumbass spy movie.
“No one followed me,” Frank said.
“Come on in,” Terry said, pulling the door all the way open so Frank could step through. He shut the door as soon as Frank was inside.
“And no one knew where you were going?” Terry looked surprisingly good for a guy who’d just spent the past two hours washing cars.
“No one knew dick,” Frank said.
“I’m just making sure that the cameras didn’t follow you to my place because if they think something is going on—”
“Nobody fucking followed me! Now can I please have my stupid shorts?” Frank exploded.
“It matters.” Terry said crossing his arms.
“I get that it matters. But I’m half naked right now, and I would very much like to no longer be that way.”
“Fine. I’ll be right back.” Terry walked further into the house, leaving Frank alone in the living room.
He’d been here a few times before, back when Terry and that motherfucker Alec were together. Most of it looked familiar. There were a few differences—the sofa and the coffee table were new. But the artwork on the walls was the same. And the line of little potted succulents was still on the mantle.
Whatever. If Terry had thrown everything out and filled the place with folding chairs that would have been fine with Frank. He could do without anything that reminded him of his relationship with Sam. That ship had sailed, exploded, and sunk.
He noticed a pile of mail on the coffee table, and saw at the top a similar invitation to the one that he’d received from his ex just a few days ago. Sam and Alec were getting married, and for some fucked up reason they had decided that inviting both Frank and Terry was a good idea.
At that moment, Terry walked in wearing a red and blue short-sleeved pullover and a pair of black shorts that looked like they had been shrink-wrapped to his ass. How was it that, all those times they’d hung out, Frank had never noticed just how nicely this guy was put together? But now, naturally, the first thing that went through Frank’s stupid head was whether Terry was still going commando. And that was immediately followed by the memory of the man’s absolutely perfect, naked butt out in the mall parking lot. Great.
Terry handed Frank the shorts he had borrowed.
“Thanks again for the loaner,” Terry said.
“No worries,” Frank replied, pulling them on. For a bizarre moment, Frank felt a warm sensation knowing that Terry had been wearing them no more than a few moments ago. Man. These thoughts about Terry were starting to freak him out a little. He needed to see a shrink. Or have a beer.
Or just sleep with the guy and get it over with.
He shook that craziness off and then picked up the invitation to the wedding and said, “I see that you’ve received a fuck-you letter too.”
“I knew it was coming,” Terry muttered, as he grabbed it away from Frank.
“Really? I didn’t. I just assumed that inviting your exes to your wedding was such an asshole move that even those two wouldn’t try it.”
“It’s not because they want us there,” Terry said. “It’s because we’re stockholders in Jones dot com. I read about it in the Financial Times. Anybody who owns shares is getting an invitation. It would look weird if they didn’t send us one.”
Frank laughed his disgust. He’d invested in Alec’s start-up because Sam had been on fire for it—without realizing that it was Alec that Sam was hot for. And after their breakup, his money guy had refused to sell—the company was exploding. So Frank had kept the investment in place, despite regularly seething about the damn thing.
“God,” Terry continued. “Can you imagine what that wedding is going to be like?”
Frank was stunned. “Please don’t tell me that you’re planning to attend that shit show.”
“Of course not!” Terry shot back quickly.
“Good!”
“Talk about stupid.”
“You couldn’t be more right,” Frank said.
“And you want to know what else is stupid?” Terry was getting pretty steamed. His pretty blue eyes actually seemed to flash a shade darker. “When Alec and I talked about getting married, we’d always thought we were going to use that same place for our ceremony and reception.”
“Douchebag,” Frank said. “You are so better off without him.”
“Screw him.”
“Screw the both of them,” Frank said.
They stood there, partners in resentment. They had been betrayed, and although it was painful being around Terry, Frank had to admit that it was good to be in the presence of someone who knew exactly what he was going through.
“To be fair though, you did kinda bring this on yourself. Well, on both of us, I guess.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Frank realized he shouldn’t have said them. He believed them to be true, and he valued honesty, but occasionally his timing was for shit.
“What does that mean?” Terry asked. He sounded defensive. No surprise there.
It was too late to stop now. “I mean… Well, if you hadn’t suggested that Alec bring Sam along on that business trip to Seattle then they never would’ve been tempted to sleep together and—”
“Oh, would you just shut up!” Terry shouted, surprising Frank a little. He expected some push back, but Terry was really pissed. “God! Did it ever occur to you that I got hurt just as much as you did when my four-year relationship got destroyed?” Terry was breathing hard, but he wasn’t finished. “Because there is nothing you can say that I haven’t already said to myself about the situation, and there isn’t a version that I haven’t replayed endlessly, asking myself what I could have done differently to prevent this. And after all the self-destructive thoughts and therapy and shame and misery, you know what I realized? Those two assholes were going to screw each other eventually, whether they went on that idiotic trip together, or not.”
It was possible that Terry was right, but suddenly Frank felt like the last thing he wanted to do was to dwell on Sam’s betrayal. He had to get out of here. “Whatever. I just can’t wait until this show is over.” Fuck him and his logic.
“Likewise.” Terry replied a bit quicker than Frank would’ve liked.
“Good.”
“Great.” Terry was not letting up. What a dick.
The two of them stood there glaring at each other. For a second of insanity, Frank actually wondered if some weird sexual chemistry was helping to fuel the anger that was flowing between them. Jesus Christ, he needed to stop thinking about Terry that way. Talk about self-destructive.
Fortunately, Terry went back into school-teacher mode. “We need to make a plan for the rest of the filming,” he said.
“I figured we’d just not talk to each other.”
“Right. Why didn’t I think of that?” Terry said, his voice laced with irony. “You think for a second those professional emotion tweakers aren’t going to spot that in a second? And then immediately spend the entire rest of the season using it as an opportunity to mess with us.”
“Gotcha, Snarky,” Frank said. “Sorry for making a suggestion.”
“Screw you,” Terry replied. “We’re on the same side of this disaster whether you want to be or not.”
“Hence my idea that you just shat all over. So what’s your big plan?”
“The opposite. Act as if we’re friends now. They won’t pair us together because there’ll be no drama.”
“That seems risky to me,” Frank said. “I feel like the less time we hang out the better.”
“Exactly,” Terry said. “We’re going to pretend to be friends so that we don’t spend time together—because they won’t pair up two boring, drama-free friends. You honestly think I want to be around you for one more second than is necessary?”
“Whoa. When did you get so fucking mean?”
“Right around the time my summer vacation changed from helping children get good books to read, and trying to forget about the fact that I was just invited to the wedding of the man who I thought I was going to marry, to endlessly dealing with the one person who reminds me of the worst time in my life.”
Frank wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that.
“Look. I’m sorry,” Terry said after a moment. “I just… This was supposed to be fun, and instead I almost bared my ass to the whole world, and…”
“Hey. You don’t need to apologize to me. This whole thing sucks. I’m sorry, too.” Frank stepped forward and gave Terry an awkward hug.
Which immediately led Frank to wonder whether Terry felt what he felt every time they were in physical contact.
Total raging heat.
* * *
From
© 2017 Jason T. Gaffney with Ed Gaffney
Available in ebook and print from Suzanne Brockmann Presents