Seeing Clearly (10 page)

"Why do you say that? "Rachel said, stepping in to take up for Joel. "He's not ashamed of you, Gretchen. Anyone can see that. He's outwardly attracted to you. I wish you could get that through your thick skull." Rachel reached out and gave me a few knocks to the noggin for emphasis.

"I know he's not ashamed to be seen with me. He just doesn't want to settle down with me."

"You say that as if you want to settle down with
him
. Let's be fair, you've told me more times than I can count that you're
not
ready for a serious relationship."

Chapter 12

Joel

I had never in my entire life been in such great shape. The only thing that helped me get Gretchen off my mind was wearing myself out with a workout. Until this point, I'd been going to the gym three times a week
. That was all I had to do to maintain the level of fitness I thought was reasonable. It had been nearly three months since we made the trip to Vegas, and my workouts had grown increasingly more frequent since then.

I worked a lot and had a few social outings here and there, but I used
any remaining free time to work out. I was also eating clean, which meant I was feeling really good. The physical boost I felt from my recent routine was the only thing that helped me find balance for an ever-growing lack of
something else
in my life, but the subject of what I didn't have wasn't something I usually dwelt on. I did my best to put those thoughts out of my head.

I looked at myself in the mirror one morning in mid December, thinking how cool it was to see the results from my diet and exercise.
The guy I saw in the mirror could stand up next to the likes of Collin and Zack without a shirt on, and that's saying a lot.

I was feeling confident,
and that made me want to see Gretchen. I decided to try to see her today. Maybe I'd work a little during the morning and take the afternoon off. I could surprise her by going to the studio. I'd met Max Mitchell a time or two, so I figured it'd be easy enough to talk my way onto the premises. I thought about the possibility of walking in there to find her doing a scene with another guy. I tried to prepare myself for that, but my mind rejected the thought completely. It had been almost a week since the night of the art show, and I was tired of fucking waiting for her to call me. I would see Gretchen today, one way or another.

****

"My name's Joel Perrin. I'm here to see Gretchen McKay."

The lady was serious about her
job, I'll give her that. She had on a dark blue uniform, complete with cargo pants and some sort of badge. I smiled at the fierce little creature. For someone so short, she looked like a force to be reckoned with.

"Ms. McKay didn't send for clearance, Mr. Perrin. I'm sorry."

I was sorry too, but mostly because I had no idea if Gretchen would agree to give me clearance even if we called her.

"Max Mitchell can vouch for me if you contact him," I said, figuring a name like his could only help my case.

"What about Ms. McKay? Which one are you here to see?" the guard asked. She was staring at me like she'd caught me in a lie.

Deciding to keep it simple, I said, "I know both of them." I met her stare with one of my own. I wasn't about to get scared off. I already had my mind made up about seeing Gretchen today.

"I'm afraid I can't let you through without clearance," she said. At least she had the decency to look sorry.

I pulled into a nearby parking spot, getting my phone out of the console to call in a favor or two. I called my friend Paul Smith who owns the biggest pool chemi
cal company in the country. I'd attended a charity function in the recent past that both he and Max Mitchell were at. I overheard Paul say that his and Max's kids were friends at whatever elite private school they went to.

Me: "Hey, Paul, I'm glad you picked up. I need a favor. Can you put me in touch with Max Mitchell in the next five minutes?"

Paul: "Shouldn't be a problem. Everything okay?"

Me: "Yeah, I just need to get on the set of his show to surprise a friend."

Paul: "Are you at the Paradise Island set?"

Me: "Yes."

Paul "At the main gate?"

Me: "Yes?" I wondered where all this was going.

Paul: "Is Bernie there? Tough old girl with aviators?"

Me: "Yes! Please tell me you know her and you're about to give me some secret pass code or something."

Paul: "I know her and I'm about to give you a secret pass code. She teaches my oldest son accordion lessons. He loves polka music of all things. He's been taking lessons from Bernie for over a year. She stays for dinner sometimes. I'll just shoot her a text. She'll buzz you through."

Me: "That's pretty damn amazing, Paul. I'm glad I called you. I owe you one."

Paul: "Think nothing of it. I'm glad I could help."

By the time I pulled back up to the gate, Bernie had obviously heard the news about me being legit. She smiled and waved like she and I were good buddies. "Well you shoulda told me you were such good friends with Paul," she said, flashing me a thousand megawatt smile."

"He would have been the last person I would have thought to mention," I said. "I sure am glad you know him though, because he was a lot easier to reach than either Gretchen or Max would have been." I smiled at her, remembering what Paul had said. "Accordion, huh? You play polka?" "Only when I have to. I'm Cajun French, from Louisiana, mon cher."

Up until then, I hadn't detected much of an accent, but she reall
y let fly toward the end there. I couldn't help but grin. "Zydeco, then?"

"Ca c'est vrai, mon ami." She said, agreeing with me in French. I wasn't fluent, but I did take a few French classes as electives in college. I stumbled through a few simple phrases, which pleased Bernie to no end. Just before I drove off she reached out her window and into my car to pinch my cheek like the aunt I never had. She buzzed me through the gate, just like Paul said.

There were three more people running interference once I made it onto the studio lot, but once you're past Bernie they pretty much take you at your word… they mostly just show you where to go. I was truly grateful for that because the place was much bigger than I anticipated.

One of the show's production assistants led me through the sprawling studio where we found the set Gretchen was working on. She was with a group of about fifty or sixty cast and crew. They were in the middle of filming a scene in a crowded pub. It was obvious by the atmosphere that it was a New Year's Eve party, which made sense since I knew they recorded everything ahead of time.

My designated P.A. warned me to stay out of the way and keep quiet. He both looked and sounded a bit like Kermit the frog, which made it a little hard to take him seriously, but I knew by his facial expression that he wasn't messing around. He was probably aware of the whole Kermit thing and a bit self-conscious about it.

The actors had been strategically placed on set so that you could clearly see their faces. Even though it was a crowded room, the stars of the show all had their faces turned to the camera somehow. I was behind the cameras and set lighting, so I disappeared into the shadows (which I was thankful for because I was tense with anticipation once I laid eyes on Gretchen). Thankful for
a moment to adjust to being in her presence, I settled my back against a wall and began to watch the filming of an episode of Paradise Island.

It was a fairly long scene, but everyone was hitting their lines and they didn't have many retakes. Gretchen was at the fake party with a guy named Lance. The director had comments and suggestions to share nearly every time the cameras weren't rolling, but the only ones that stood out to me were the ones where he addressed Gretchen.

"Abby, take a step closer to Lance… face Lance…" Every time the director told her to do something with Lance, I felt like I wanted to smack both him and Lance upside their ugly heads. They weren't swapping spit or anything, but I was having an extremely hard time watching her with another guy in
any
capacity. Knowing ahead of time that this was a possible scenario didn't soften the blow. I dreaded the countdown to the New Year when she and fuckface would inevitably go into a lip lock. Based on hints I picked up in the dialogue, I knew it was coming.
A kiss on the lips may prove to be too much. There's no way I'll be able to watch that,
I thought. I looked around the set, hoping to find something I could stare at when it came time for the kiss.

The director raised his voice to a level where everyone in the room could hear him. "Okay, at the end of this scene, we go into the countdown. The bomb will go off just between the number one and the happy New Year. You'll hear a blast, but the pyrotechnics are going to be CGI. Got that? You're going to have to do
a convincing job of looking horrified as you hit the deck."

He's not going to kiss her, he's not going to kiss her
, was all I could think as I heard the director's words.
A bomb for Christ's sake… how lucky can I get?
A grin spread across my face.

"Abby, when you go down, Lance is going to jump away from you in an effort to try to save himself, and that's when Ashton sacrifices himself to cover you. Vic, you'll be focused on Ashley. Just like we practiced this morning. The rest of you will be background, but you all need to look sharp. Holy terror on your faces. Make it believable. Everybody got it?" The cast nodded their approval. "All right, get your places," he said.

Of course I didn't love hearing the news that somebody was going to get to play hero, but it was still better than a New Year's kiss. Despite the fact that it was an interesting process and I'd only been watching for a half hour or so, I was ready for the whole thing to be over. I wanted to see her, talk to her, touch her. Most of all, I wanted the asshat actors to get their hands off of her.

The director cued the beginning of the scene, and the actors began to execute like the professionals they were. Kermit the frog looked at me with an expression of satisfaction at the sight of the cast and crew at work. Somehow I was still proud of Gretchen for being so good at this even though I'd like nothing more than to carry her out of here and have her never set foot in this place again.

I caught myself clenching my fists when they settled into their characters and took their places on the set. I had to glance away at the stage light, which I designated to be my happy place. Fucking soap opera. I cursed myself for not being able to make myself want the doctor like I want this little firecracker of an actress.

Chapter 13

Gretchen

We were just about to film the final scene
for the New Year's Eve party. The director had given us last minute instructions before we took our places. Joel Perrin was in the corner, barely taking his eyes off of me. He didn't think I could see him, but I could. I caught sight of him when he walked in with Frog, and even though he thought he got lost in the shadows, I could still see one side of his face behind the lights. I couldn't get a good enough look to tell what kind of mood he was in. I couldn't imagine Joel reacting well to seeing me being forced to stand so near Lance. He wasn't really the type to share. In fact, that's pretty much at the very core of why things would never work out with us. I wondered what his mindset was… why he'd chosen today to show up here and how he'd gotten clearance.

I could only vaguely make out his face, but I could see enough to make my heart trip. His hair was hanging loose, just like I liked it. I wondered why he was here at two o'clock on a weekday when he should be at work. I knew how many irons he had in the fire. Joel Perrin was a busy man and he was standing in the shadows watching me work. My palms grew sweaty once it hit home that he'd be sticking around until I was done and I'd be talking to him face-to-face. I took a deep breath and wiped my
suddenly sweaty hands on a nearby tablecloth before we started the final scene. My nerves never did this with the guys at work, even when we had to do a more intimate scene. Joel affected me like no one else could. I feared I would have no shot at saying no to him, regardless of why he was here today.

A backrub? Sure.

A date? Sure.

Ride with you on a parade float? Yes.

Dig a hole in the ground? Of course.

Sex? I don't see why not.

I was almost mad at myself… not only for feeling like putty in his hand, but for
liking
the idea of it.
Uhh, the scene, the scene, focus.
Although I was still new here, I felt entirely comfortable with my job and with this cast. So, in spite of being rattled by Joel I was able to finish the scene easily.

Tom, the director, called for action, and those of us who had lines began to recite them. Once we'd all said our lines, the countdown began. It seemed like the longest nine seconds of my life. I had to keep myself from anticipating the blast too early. I flung my body to the ground in the direction I'd been instructed to go. Caleb's character Ashton fell over me to shield me from the blast. We held still until Tom yelled, "Cut!" We all looked up at him for confirmation that we got it. "I think it's good. Give me three minutes to watch it back and I'll let you know. We might just be done for the day, kids."

I was pretty confident that we'd nailed it, so I figured I'd be talking to Joel within a few moments. My insides felt hot and melty and my skin was tingling with anticipation. I risked a glance in his direction even though I'd been trying not to let him know I knew he was there. Right when I looked his way, he took a step forward to catch my eye. How was he so bold? I smiled at him, and one corner of his mouth rose in that sexy gangsta grin I loved.

I had to peel my eyes off of him so I could pay attention to Tom's appraisal of our work. "Okay, we're done here, people. I'm going to need Megan, Vic and Ashley in Living Room Three for the next scene. The rest of you are done for the day." He was only talking to the cast, of course. The crew had to stay with the director until the day was done.

"Good luck," I told Cali. Her character Megan had some major drama in the next scene. The cops were beginning to investigate the bombing, and Megan's dad was the primary suspect.

"Thanks. I have tons of unshed tears right now anyway." She was referring to being dumped by the guy she'd been seeing for the last few weeks. Cali was a pretty girl, and sweet too, but she had
terrible
taste in men.

"Aww, well use him for a little inspiration, and then forget about him. He's not worth any more than that.
"

"I know. I'm fine," she said, giving me a seemingly genuine smile. "Enjoy the afternoon off."

"Thanks. Joel's here."

She gasped before looking around to try to spot him. "Your Joel? Where?"

"He's not
my
Joel," I whispered, "and he's behind you. He's headed this way, so act surprised to see him."

Cali played along beautifully. She pretended we'd been talking about work stuff when he drew near enough for me to acknowledge. They both remembered each other from a week ago at the art show. "You missed it at The Yard," she told Joel along with her greeting. "Bree Z showed up during a rap battle. It was pretty epic."

"Yeah, I heard about that," he said, smiling. I wondered who filled him in. Cali was off to Living Room Three, so Joel waved and added, "It was nice seeing you."

"You too. See ya Abbs," she said, giving both of us a smile and a wave goodbye.

"You call each other by your character names?" was the first thing Joel asked. He obviously picked up on her calling me Abbs.

"Only when we're at work. It makes everything easier. Tom and the other directors barely know our real names," I said, with a little laugh.

From out of nowhere, a four-year-old boy named Aiden (who plays Noah on the show) started running toward Joel with a reckless abandon that totally startled me. He was yelling with joy as he approached, and his arms were raised as if he was offering himself up to be held. "Superman!" he yelled as he ran to Joel. I could see why little Aiden would think that. Joel was broad at the shoulders… built like a super hero. His black hair and beautifully chiseled face fit the description too. I wondered how Joel would react to the boy since I'd heard he didn't have any family of his own.

Joel reached down and scooped
him up with no hesitation whatsoever. He held Aiden to his chest, letting him sit on the crook of his arm. "How'd you know it was me?" Joel whispered as his eyes darted around to making sure no bad guys would overhear.

"Because I can just tell," Aiden whispered with wide eyes and a shrug. "C
an you fly with me?" he asked, total faith oozing out of him.

"I would, buddy, but I already promised Ms. McKay I would fly her home."

"You did?" he asked, his eyes growing even wider as he looked at me like I must be the luckiest person on Earth.

"Yep," I said, confirming Joel's story.
"I needed a ride, so I called my friend to help me out."

"You guys are
friends
?" he asked. He was looking from me to Joel, amazed. 

Joel
leaned in to whisper in the boy's ear. I could barely hear him, but I was pretty sure he said, "I think I'm going to ask her to be my girlfriend." Aiden slapped a hand to his forehead as if wanting a girlfriend was the silliest thing he'd ever heard of. "What?" Joel asked. "Superman needs a girlfriend too."

"I guess," Aiden said, not looking totally convinced.

"What's your name?" Joel asked the boy.

"AAY-DEN."

"You can't tell anybody I'm really Superman, okay? Everyone else just thinks I'm Gretchen's friend."

Aiden nodded. "I won't tell," he said, looking over his shoulder to make sure the coast was clear.

Tiffany, Aiden's mom caught sight of him and hurried toward us. "Aiden Murray, why did you run off like that? You know better." She came across the set looking flustered and embarrassed. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I thought he was right behind me but I turned around and he was gone. He usually doesn't run off like that. I'm really sorry." She reached out and took Aidan from Joel then settled the boy on her own hip.

"It's really okay," Joel said. "Are you Aiden's mom?" Tiffany nodded at him, looking a bit surprised and wary that he knew Aiden's name. "He recognized me, that's all," Joel continued. He looked at Aiden. "It's okay to tell your mom I'm really Superman," he whispered, loud enough so Tiffany could hear. "Moms are the best at secrets. We can tell them everything." He gave Aiden a wink, and the boy returned it by blinking both eyes really hard.
Tiffany looked satisfied with the explanation, and walked off with a thankful smile aimed at Joel.

I was so touched by the way he'd dealt with that situation that I wanted to cry. My eyes started to burn and I realized to my own horror that I
was
tearing up.
What is wrong me with me?
I wondered. I turned away and looked up at the ceiling for a second's distraction. 

"You okay?" Joel asked, putting a hand at the small of my back.

"Yeah," I said, too quickly. I tried to be casual. "I just had something in my eye," I became all too aware of the presence of his warm hand at my back and I turned to face him, suddenly feeling like there wasn't quite enough oxygen in the room. My eyes were still glazed over with unshed tears, but I figured the
"something in my eye"
bit would account for that.

I gathered my wits enough to look at him again.
He was so gorgeous I could hardly stand it. He always had the shadow of some hair on his jawline, and I found myself wanting to reach up and run my hand over it. I stared at his strong jaw then my gaze moved on to his lips. I remembered how they felt on mine, and I felt that familiar ache in the pit of my stomach at the thought.

"I was
impressed
. You're a really good actress." His words brought me about halfway back to reality. Oh yeah, he was talking about watching us film the scene.

"Thanks," I said, my voice a little hoarse. I was a
freaking mess
around this guy, but I couldn't help how attracted I was. It was like raw animal magnetism. Uncontrollable.

"I came here to ask you something today," Joel said. About ten different things crossed my mind within a matter of seconds, but I had
no idea
what direction this was about to take. "I know your family lives nearby, and I was wondering if I could crash the party this Christmas. I've never really celebrated it before. My childhood was sketchy at best. (A pause.) Now, don't look at me like that," he said, seeing the concern in my eyes. "I've had friends invite me to go home with them for Christmas every year since I started college. I just didn't see much of a point in celebrating the holiday. Don't pity me for being a Scrooge. It was self-imposed. The good news is I think I'd like to give it a go this year. You think it'd be okay if I come for Christmas with your family? I mean if you don't already have plans."

I was wondering why he chose me. Did he just think I had a nice family because we'd hosted some of our other friends for holidays, or was it something more? I didn't ask him that since I figured he was already out of his comfort zone. "Of course you can come over," I said. "I just want to warn you, my family's a lot to take in. Just think of the
phrase 'free for all' and you'll be somewhat prepared."

"Free for all
s are my
favorite
," Joel said. He pulled me to him using the hand that hadn't left the small of my back. His chest and arms were solid and warm. "What happened the other night?" he asked, looking concerned.

I took a deep breath. "I don’t really know. I just felt sick. You know, woozy."

"You sure it wasn't about me? It seems like you'd have called by now." He paused to look at me. "I'm just going to be honest. I
hate
what you do for a living, can't stand it, but I also hate not seeing you. I miss the days when I could count on you being at Rachel's office. I came here today to ask you about Christmas, but mainly I just needed to see you, I had to get my hands on you. I thought I would've heard from you by now."

He ran his big hands up my arms and then down my back, sending waves of chills and some other electric sensation through me. Boy was I right when I had the feeling I wouldn't be able to say no to him today. I had the sneaking suspicion that this was just a booty call, but I didn't care. I would follow this guy to the ends of the earth right now.

****

I only had to follow him as far as the parking lot where we found his car. It was a beautiful, sunny December afternoon. He was driving the old Camaro, which made a rush of excitement go through me. He looked like a male model in ripped designer jeans and a faded T-shirt. Ever the gentleman, Joel beat me to the passenger's door, which he held open.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked. Looking at him over my sunglasses as I sat in the passenger's seat. Actually, it was a bench seat, but I sat approximately where the passenger's seat would be, leaving a little bit of space between the driver and me.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Joel said, closing my door. He walked around the back of the car, opened his door, sat behind the wheel, and looked at me from across the divide. "If I would've wanted you that far away, I'd be driving the SUV." He patted the space next to him, and I obeyed by sliding closer to him to close the gap. He reached across me to dig for the seatbelt (which was just a lap belt since I was in the middle)
and the smell of him all up in my space like that made me take an irregular breath. "Hey listen, if you want to take this slow, I can just take you for a cup of coffee or something. I don't want you to feel like the only reason I came here today was to—"