Mr. 365 (24 page)

When he spies me sitting with Martin, he eyes us warily, and stops a few feet away. Martin stands and approaches him.

“Will, I’m Martin Rasner, the attorney from True Blue Entertainment. We’ve secured your release after your hellish night.” He pulls out a business card and hands it to Will. “Here’s my contact information if you need it.”

Will takes the card without looking at it and jams it in his back pocket. He won’t make eye contact, and I have no idea if he’s trying to formulate what he’s going to say, or if he’s just not going to say anything at all.

I note that Martin doesn’t extend an apology for what happened or True Blue’s part in it.
Of course not.
He’s a lawyer and the last thing he would do is say anything that puts his client in a bad position. It leaves a rancid taste in my mouth.

There’s an awkward pause. Finally Martin turns to me.

“Are you sure you’re okay driving Will home? I can do it.”

“No, no, I insist,” I say.

Martin studies me silently. “Okay, check in with me before lunch.” He turns to Will. “Take it easy. This will be behind you soon.”

Will finally looks up and glares at Martin, who steps back.

Martin spins and walks out the door.

I turn back to Will. “I’m sorry, so sorry, Will,” I say softly, trying to hold back the tears.

He closes his eyes and tips his head back.

“I need to get out of here,” he says with a chilling emptiness in his voice.

I’m almost glad he walks behind me to my car so he can’t see the tears I brush away. The drive back is excruciating. I tell him about Romeo’s condition, informing him that I got an update from the vet while Martin was signing the paperwork. He listens to me while gazing out the passenger window.

Will only speaks once during the entire drive. “I swore I’d never be back in one of those places ever again. I swore.” He shakes his head and falls silent again.

It’s so tense in the car, I fear anything I say will upset him, so I remain silent too. When we get close to his neighborhood he digs his fingers into his knees.

“I need to see Romeo now. Just drop me off there.”

It stings that he doesn’t want me there. When I approach the building, I pull into the lot and park, ignoring his drop-off instructions.

As we step out of the car, he turns to me.

“What are you doing?’

“I’m coming with you,” I say, trying not to sound hurt.

“This is my problem,” he says, his eyes cold and gray.

“Will…” My voice sounds sad.

He turns and walks to the entrance.

I follow him several paces behind and take a seat in the back of the waiting area while he checks in. If I were him I’d need my space and time to process everything that happened.

He can be angry and short with me in the short term and I’ll try to handle it. I just hope that when he looks back he’ll realize that I was, and am, there for him.

Once he’s checked in, he’s taken back to the vet’s office, and I follow several steps behind him. He glances over his shoulder, looking annoyed like I shouldn’t be there.

“Will, please. I care about him too.” I say quietly.

He turns back without saying a word. He asks Daniel, Romeo’s vet, several questions before asking to see Romeo. The veterinary assistant walks us back to where Romeo’s being observed.

“Oh, buddy,” he says, his breath catching in the back of his throat. “Romeo.”

He turns away and blinks. His shoulders sag as he looks back at him.

“Can I touch him?” he asks the assistant.

“He’s sedated so he probably won’t react. Just be careful of the tube.”

Will gently skims Romeo’s fur with his fingers.

As I observe, I think how peaceful Romeo is.
Too peaceful.
It’s haunting.

Will leans in close. “Hey, my brave little man. Thank you for protecting us. If you hadn’t barked so loud and woken us up to the fire…well, who knows what could have happened.” His voice is shaking as he talks, and he looks off to the side for a moment and grimaces.

Just watching Will with Romeo reminds me of the whole chaotic scene and how seriously in peril we were last night.

“Wow, he saved you?” the assistant asks, awestruck.

Will flinches like he’s forgotten he’s not alone. He brushes a hand under his eyes and nods without raising his head.

“He sure did,” he replies.

“Such a brave dog, a great dog,” she says with a sweet voice.

“The best dog ever.” He swirls his fingers on top of Romeo’s head.

My eyes flood with tears and I hold in a sob.

“I think we better let him rest,” The assistant says after giving Will a few more minutes with Romeo.

“Okay, just one more thing.” Will leans even closer to Romeo. “Fight hard, little guy. You’re a champ and you will pull through this. I’m going to be here a lot until I can take you home. And when I do, I’m going to take the best care of you.” He sighs and I can feel the conviction in his words.

“It’s you and me always, Romeo.”

I try to steady myself and not linger on the meaning of those words.

As Will walks back to the waiting area, he acts like I’m not there. I can feel the anger roll off him.

“Ready?” I ask, stepping closer to get his attention.

He silently nods and follows me outside to my car.

I’ve driven several blocks with my hands tightly clutching the steering wheel before I break the silence.

“Do you feel better now that you’ve seen him?”

Will stares out his window. “We still don’t know if he will pull through. You heard Daniel. He’s stable now, which is the most we can hope for at this point. It will take a few days to know for sure.”

I nod solemnly. “But there’s reason to be hopeful. Romeo’s under great care and I bet he was glad that you checked on him.”

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “But he was sedated and didn’t react to me being there. At least I got to touch him and talk to him. Maybe he knows on some level that I’m there for him.”

My breath catches. “Oh, Will.”

It’s silent for several minutes before I speak again. “I wish we could have gotten him in right away.” I regret running down the street and holding him. That must have only made things worse.

“Yeah, well if only it hadn’t happened at all,” he replies with a shadow of anger behind every word.

The resulting silence is so big it fills every nook and cranny in the car, the kind of deafening silence that makes your head hurt. I’m almost relieved when I pull up to Will’s house so we can get out of the damn car.

He’s staring at the yard when I park in the driveway.

“The gingerbread house,” he says, as if he’s just realized that it’s gone.

I almost don’t recognize his voice. It’s so different, an intense intonation of misery mixed with resignation.

“It’s gone. I’m so sorry, Will,” I whisper.

“You’re sorry? You have no idea,” he says, mostly to himself.

I turn to him after I pull my keys out of the ignition. “Can I come in?”

He rests his hands on his knees and takes a deep breath, staring out the front windshield.

My heart pounds wildly as I realize things are even worse than I feared.

He finally shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“No? I thought you could use the support. I can be there for you,” I say weakly.

He grips his knees with his hands and loosens before doing it again. “I’ve got to get my head on straight, Sophia. I’m really angry right now, and it would probably be better for you not to be around me.”

His words gut me while I stare at the steering wheel. He hasn’t verbally blamed me yet, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. Nothing he could say would be harsher than what I’ve already said to myself.

“When I can see you?” I ask. I hate the neediness in my voice.

He opens the car door and steps out. He doesn’t even lean in to face me.

“I’ll call you.” He closes the door and walks away.

I feel so hollow I’m not sure I can breathe. I back out of his driveway carefully and drive home extra slow, my vision blurry with the first of the day’s many, many tears.

T
he meeting at True Blue is unusually somber until Paul pipes up.

“As Stan Laurel would say to Oliver Hardy, Lindsey, ‘Well, that’s a fine mess you’ve gotten us into!’” Paul turns to our irritated line producer and wags his finger at her.

“Screw you, Paul,” she says, giving him the finger. “It’s not my fault that dude and his inbred offspring are all off their rockers!”

“Besides, Paul, you got the quote wrong. It’s ‘you’ve gotten
me
into.’” Aaron points out.

“Oh, shut up,” Paul says, emphasizing each word while rolling his eyes.

“How bad was the fire?” Rachel asks, her expression tight.

“It could have been horrible, but thankfully it was damp out and there was no wind. The worst of it was he lost the gingerbread house he had built with his grandparents,” I say.

“That sucks. That thing was amazingly crafted,” Aaron adds sadly.

“Yeah but at least his fucking house didn’t burn down. With all that turn-of-the-century woodwork, it would have been an architectural disaster,” Paul says.

“Did Will really spend the night in jail?” Aaron asks.

“Yes, he did.”

“We have a very thorough investigator. Apparently Mr. Christmas has a history of violence, so attacking his neighbor was not a well-thought-out plan. Clearly our client screening was not thorough enough.” Rachel adds, not so helpfully.

My stomach sinks. So much for sealed records.

“Will? Violent?” asks Lindsey, surprised.

“Well, he did threaten to beat the crap out of me during the interior shoots,” Paul reminds them.

“People,” Rachel says in her take charge voice. “Why do I not hear about these things when they happen? I shouldn’t be hearing about this after the fact or not at all. That doesn’t cut it. I’m the one dealing with management, and they are not pleased with what’s happened here.”

“I can imagine. So as I was saying, Will was going to beat my face in or something, and Aaron had to take him for a drive to cool him off,” Paul says.

“Was it really that bad, Paul. Or are you being dramatic,” I ask.

“Honestly, it was really macho and sexy hot.” He folds his arms over his chest and grins. “But that’s how I like my men.”

Lindsey rolls her eyes. “You like your men angry? That’s messed up.”

“And you like ’em soft, since you’re such a badass. Am I right?”

“Can we stay focused, please?” Rachel says, frustrated. “Legal is looking into everything. There’s a chance we may not even be able to use the footage.”

“What? So the whole shoot is a wash?” Aaron looks ready to lose it.

I feel like I’m going to throw up.

“I don’t know for sure. We’ll just have to wait and hear what legal decides on the risks and liability,” Rachel says.

“I’m so pissed off. I mean those fucking white trash neighbors of Will’s were trying to blackmail us. It was extortion. They’re the ones that set his place on fire and tried to kill his dog. They should pay for all this,” Lindsey says.

“The vet bills are staggering and our budget is blown sky high.” Rachel’s lamenting sounds shallow and self-absorbed.

My rage builds. “Will’s world almost collapsed that night. Are we really just concerned about money? What about Will?”

The room goes silent and everyone stares at me. Finally Lindsey clears her throat.

“So, Sophia, some of us were wondering how you happened to be there when this happened in the middle of the night?” she asks carefully.

Rachel has a smug look as she tips her head and studies me. She taps her pencil on her pad waiting for my answer. “Yes, why was that?”

Paul rubs his hands together with delight. “There’s so much we can do with this!”

“Such as?” Aaron asks, confused.

“Well, how about she was licking his candy cane? Or hanging his Christmas balls.” He grins like the Grinch, a devious look on his face. “Did he
cum
down your chimney?”

“Shut up,” I snap, disgusted.

“What? I’m sure you have a lovely chimney,” Paul says, widening his eyes to play innocent.

“Enough!” Rachel yells. “Sophia, since you have a
special
relationship, is Will still on board, or should we expect a call from his lawyers too?”

“Sounds like that lawsuit line is getting long,” Lindsey adds.

I’m silent for a moment, twisting my hands on my lap.

“I really don’t know. He’s pretty angry, and he’s not talking to me right now,” I finally say.

Their fake sympathetic nods only make things worse. I stand on unsteady legs and excuse myself, thinking I can escape to the bathroom. I want to splash water on my face and wash away my part in all of this. Paul starts talking about me before I’m even out the door.

“Poor thing,” he says, shaking his head. “Heartbreak is the worst.”

“And that’s why there’s a rule not to get involved with subjects. Too many things can go wrong,” Rachel says.

“And that’s not even the half of it,” says Paul cryptically.

Rachel eyes him warily and nods, but I’m too upset to even care what he means.