Fade In (13 page)

He coughs through his laugh. “You're such a dude. Just watch out, Tatum. You don't know that guy. He has access to all of your shit. It isn't smart to shit where you eat.” His face turns serious before he parts with, “Think about it.”

Now, there's a thought. Wes has a good point. I don't know much about Ben. I don't even know how he knew about the interview. When Neil called the agency to cancel the rest of the applicants' appointments, they didn't have anyone named Ben even considering the position.

It's possible that he just heard about it from a friend who was though. Neil called a reference on the resume Ben emailed him since he hadn't brought it to the interview. They said positive things about him, so who knows?

Maybe he's a stalker. Like, a real one. I'm both turned on and intrigued by this mysterious employee of mine. Maybe I'll just have to have enough cocktails to get to the bottom of how he knew about the job opening tonight.

The show is smooth like butter. Time runs perfectly. Nobody fucks up, except big Devon, but who cares? It's more fun to watch when the actor is just as affected by the joke. The audience eats it up when they crack just a little.

Everyone says their “great shows” and the crew begins tearing down a few of the bigger sets to make tomorrow morning a little easier on themselves while the cast gets out of wardrobe. I wander over to where Ben is patiently waiting. He gets up as I approach.

“So what did you think? Looks different from back here, huh?” I ask him.

The first time I was behind the camera watching a show taping, it was like seeing behind the curtain at Oz. I know everyone doesn't get their jollies like I do, but I'm always interested to hear what people who are out of the business think of the whole thing.

“You're fun to watch working.” He pockets his hands and shifts towards me a little, rocking on his heels. “You're good at your job.”

“Thanks, but I meant the show. Did you like it? Big Devon is a riot. Well, actually both Devons are, but the fat one gets me every time.”

“Big Devon? Does he know you call him big and fat?” He feigns offense to my rude pet name. “Can't you get into trouble for speaking to him like that?”

“Not as much trouble as he's gonna be in if he doesn't lay off the shit he eats. Seriously, it's their shtick. Big Devon and little Devon. They are best friends and writing partners. It's totally his preference to be big Devon. I've seen pictures of him in high school when he was just tall, average Devon. He got the name after they met in college.”

“Oh, well, all right. They play well off each other. They're hilarious.” Ben scans the set that is already almost vacant. “Are you almost ready to go? Do you want to grab a jacket or something?”

“I don't need one. I'll just forget it at the bar. I have a few there already if I need one when we leave. True story.” We go to Matty's every Thursday night when the show is in season. Even before we were Thursday-night regulars, Winnie and I were there a few times a week since we worked in the same building.

I send a quick text to Cooper saying that I'm heading down the street with Ben and that we'll see them there.

Ben and I talk about the show, and he is interested in all the ins and outs. I promise him that he can come whenever he wants, and he says that he will.

When we get to Matty's, Ben holds the door for me, and as I walk through, he runs his warm hand down my back. He leaves his fingers spread at the top of my hip as he follows me in, and we make our way to the bar. My body naturally goes where he steers me.

The moment is broken when I stiffen at seeing Kurt sitting at the bar where we all normally congregate. This should be interesting.

Ben must sense the change in my posture because he tightens his fingers into me. I remove his hand and quickly pull Ben with it back outside. I nearly trip on the uneven doorstep and Ben steadies me, clutching my elbow.

I say, “Wait a minute.” Because I'm trying to figure out how to play this one out.

“If you're really tired, I can take you home, Tatum.” He thinks that I'm tired and he wants to take me home. Wants to take me home. He wants to... Ahh!

Shoving the impulsive thought of letting him take me home and mount me on the counter, I say, “No, I'm fine. There just someone in there that I know.”

“Right. Everyone from the show is coming. Someone you don't like? What?” He's totally lost, and his brow creases.

“No. My ex-boyfriend, Kurt, is in there. He sometimes meets all of us here after the show and he's here now. But we are broken up.” Fuck. Where in the hell are Winnie and Cooper?

“So what? You've both probably moved on from it. Just say hi and play it off? It's fine.”

“You don't get it. We broke up on Friday. Last Friday. On my birthday.” Finally, recognition spreads across his handsome face that I'm telling him our breakup is still in its infancy.

“Oooh. Well, do you want to stay? Or go somewhere else or something?”

I don't know what to do. Just then, I hear Winnie's laugh coming down the street and I turn all the way around to see if Cooper is with her. He is.

I whisper-scream, “COOOOOOPER!!” and stomp my foot. “Kurt. Is. Here.”

“No fucking way? Well, let’s go in. You can introduce him to Ben.” Cooper smiles and his eyes widen like this is all going to be fascinating. Winnie playfully smacks his arm and gives me a ‘he's your brother’ look. Cooper loves drama more than fourteen-year-old girls apparently.

“Are you serious? This is too messed up. I think I might just go. I don't want it to be awkward. Ahhh... This is going to be a train wreck.” I can't decide. If I stay, it could get uncomfortable. If I go, I might end up fucking my new employee on his second day.

I look at Ben, who is only feeding off of Cooper's reaction, and he smiles like I'm overreacting. That damn smile.

I choose the train wreck.

“Cooper!” Kurt yells as soon as he sees him walk in with Winnie on his arm. “Where's Tate? I wanna to talk to her.” It sounds like Kurt has been saving our seat for a few hours now by the slur in his voice.

“She right here, bud. Are you cool though? We are all here to have a good time. Right?” Cooper sees that this isn't the situation he thought he was walking into and squares his shoulders to make his point clear.

“Yeeeeah, we are all friends here. Me and you are friends. Me and Winnolyn are friends. You and Winnolyn are friends. Everys-bodies friends.”

Cooper looks at Nick, the bartender who is usually working when we come in, with wide eyes and Nick just shakes his head and raises his shoulders in an apology.

Cooper turns to face me and appears to be deciding if leaving would be a better idea.

“Who is that? Is that my friend Tatum? Tay-Tum!! You're my friend, Tatum. See all friends, Coopie.”

As funny as it is, it's not. Cooper seems a little pissed, and Winnie isn't saying anything. She's watching and waiting for the second our other colleagues come in so she can run away from this whole situation.

I can't even look at Ben. I'm embarrassed, but mostly for Kurt. I told them about how he took it and all about our breakfast, but they didn't see it firsthand. They were mostly just witness to his dicky behavior towards the end of our relationship. I need to say something.

“Come here, Kurt.” And I move in to hug him. It will only be more uncomfortable if I pretend it isn't happening, but it is happening and I know best how to handle him. Kurt isn't a raging alcoholic by any stretch of the imagination, but I can tell that he isn't himself. I'm a little worried. “When did you get here? You should have come by the show.”

“I came here earlier. I was going to leave before you got here. I was, Tatum. Then I just wanted to see you. You're so fucking hot right now. You look so good.” His hands wrap around me, and I'm okay with it. It hasn't even been a week since I broke up with him mid-blowjob. I can't really play the ‘I have a physical boundaries’ card.

“Come on. Let's go sit over here for a minute. Then we'll get you a cab. Hmm?” I decide that if he wants to talk to me, I can handle it. What's five minutes with a drunken ex-boyfriend in the broad scheme of things?

Quickly, I sneak a glance at Ben. His eyes are narrowly pinned on Kurt. But I tell myself that he's just my assistant, not my boyfriend.

With my right arm wrapped around Kurt's waist and my left arm straight out as counter balance, I try to wade us through the small crowd that has filled Matty's. He is really plowed. He's not walking that great, and he's sharing more of his weight than I can really manage.

Just as we get close to an empty booth on the other side of the bar, I hear this
pop
and feel a sharp pain that shoots right through my side. The breath whooshes out of my lungs. Literally blindsided, I freeze.

“Oh, shit. I'm sorry, Tatum.” It's one of the sound guys from the show, Pete.

He shoved a pool cue during his break into my ribs. I think he broke one. He's in my face apologizing and I can't grab the air to breathe. What's with me and getting hurt at the fucking bar?

In an instant, Cooper has Kurt and Ben is here by my side. “Tatum, are you hurt? I saw that jab.” He's squares my hunched-over shoulders to face him, and I feel tears burning my eyes. I don't know if I can inhale yet and I'm lightheaded. Still bent over a little, I'm frozen. “Tatum. Say something. Are you okay?”

Then he's lowering himself and putting an arm behind my knees. His other wraps around to my right under arm and he picks me up. Finally, I take a breath and it's what I imagine being stabbed feels like.

I yelp. The sharpness of the ache on my side is severe. My breaths are shallow and I can't inhale fully.

Ben shouts at Cooper, “Hey, I'm taking her to the hospital!”

I try to say no, that I want to go home, but only, “Home,” comes out.

Ben's face is angry, and he says, “Hospital.”

I gather up enough air to say, “Please.” I know I've won out when he huffs, “Fine.”

Before I know it, Winnie has hailed a cab and Ben is getting in without even putting me down. He simply slips in the door Winnie is holding and I hear her say, “We'll get the next cab when Cooper gets out here. We're right behind you. Can you stay with her until we get there?”

“I'm not leaving her. I'm taking her home. She doesn't want to go to the hospital. If I change my mind and take her, I'll call you from her phone on the way,” he says.

Winnie acknowledges his plan with a quick, “Okay.” Then she shuts the door.

I feel every bump and turn the vehicle makes and as we come to a stop outside my building Ben wriggles his wallet out from under him and tosses money at the driver. “Thanks. You can keep it.” Opening the back door, he lifts me out with him. He hasn't set me down or loosened his hold on me in what feels like twenty minutes.

The pain coming from my ribs is barely tolerable. Every breath is torture.

“Tatum, are you breathing okay? I think he just knocked the air out of you. You might have a broken rib or two. He hit you pretty hard.” Ben's face is inches from mine as he carefully navigates the door and stops at the security desk.

“Tatum?” I hear Phil say. “Sir, is she all right? Should I call for an ambulance?”

“She's fine. I work for her. I'm Ben.”

“Okay. Do you need some help? What can I do?” Phil sounds worried, but Ben's tone doesn't leave the topic up for debate.

“If you can grab an elevator for us, that would be great.” Ben walks towards the lifts. He's not short of breath like I am, yet he's been carting me around this whole time.

I'm can only manage to pull in tiny breaths, and my head is now leaning on his hard chest. I'm not crying too hard because I think that would be even more painful, but my eyes keep overflowing with hot tears.

Pete got me good. I bet he feels awful.

We are finally at my door and Ben somehow has his key is ready. He must have pulled it out in the cab. He leans down slightly to the right and unlocks the door. We are in my apartment in short order.

Walking me straight to my room, he sets me down gently on my bed. All I can say through my tears is, “I. Didn't. See. Him.” Every word is punctuated with a short breath.

“I know you didn't. I saw it.” His voice is soothing and calm.

I'm sitting on the edge of my bed and Ben is on his knees in front of me. With one hand on my leg, his other swipes at the steady stream of tears I haven't been able to impede.

“Can you raise your arm? Go slow.”

Something about his voice has my battered body doing his will. I slowly begin to lift my arm and the pain is blinding. I almost feel like I'm going to pass out.

“Here. Lie down on your other side.” He lifts my legs onto the bed and I roll away from him. “I'm going to untuck your shirt. I want to lift it up and see, okay?”

“Oh. Kay.” I rotate my arm in front of me and close my eyes. While his right hand is pulling at the bottom of my button-up shirt, his left hand is sweetly rubbing my hip. It is such a small but caring gesture.

Why is he doing all of this? And again, where in the hell are Winnie and Cooper?

I feel the cool air hit my side and then his hand runs from the top of my pants up to over where it hurts so badly. I can’t help but flinch when he nears the spot.