Reality Check (11 page)

“Yo, dude. You better watch yourself. You're being real disrespectful, and I know what you're up to. Whaddya mean, she's not the butter type—too plain? Whaddya trying to say?” Mason stepped up. “You already played it too close back in New York. Don't act up here. Just like New York, Illinois is my playground too.”

Liam stood his ground. He didn't say a word, but he didn't move either.

Charly stood in front of Mason. “I don't think he means anything, Mason. He's just trying to be nice. Right, Liam?” Charly asked, then bit her tongue to prevent herself from smiling. Her pulse sped, thinking of how Mason must've felt. He couldn't afford to buy her the large size. But she couldn't help but be impressed by Liam and all he'd gone through to find her popcorn. “You didn't have to do that. Seriously, you didn't have to get me any, and really the large is too much,” she said for Mason's benefit. The truth was, a big-sized popcorn was exactly what she needed, and she'd stay up all night snacking on it.

Liam laughed, then playfully reached to pat Mason on the arm. Mason drew back and balled his fists at his sides. “It's no big deal, right? It's just popcorn. Who can't buy popcorn?” he asked, looking from Charly to Mason, shrugging his shoulders. He turned back to Charly. “And I didn't buy you one.”

She exhaled. Maybe the studio had purchased it—that would be better for Mason's ego, she believed. Besides, Liam had said he'd
gotten
her popcorn, not
bought
it, she reasoned. “Well, so the studio paid for it? That's cool.”

Liam shook his head. “Of course not, Charly. They give us caterers, not fund our whims. And the reason I didn't buy you one is because I bought you
two
. A huge one of the chocolate and caramel and nuts and another huge one with butter, just to be sure. I even brought you an empty bag so you could mix them together, but I think I left that in my room. I'll give it to you later.” He threw Mason a look.

Mason lunged.

Charly stopped Mason, then looked at him. His breathing was labored and his temples were throbbing. His cloak of anger wasn't cloaked at all, it was see-through.

“Hurry, Charly and Liam. Annison and Sully just finished,” Mr. Day was yelling. “It's your turn.”

T
he cameras were flashing and Charly was smiling. She'd never done what Mr. Day had called a press junket, but she'd seen one or two played out on television and at the movies, and it was nothing like the real thing, she thought. Nor was it as huge as she'd imagined. She'd pictured an audience full of reporters with raised hands and microphones and just as many cameras as there were people. Her imagination had told her that a junket was like a scene at the White House when the president makes an announcement, or like the media circus right before a professional boxing match, when the boxers weigh in and toss threats at each other. Her idea was all wrong. Charly shook her head, then glanced down at her hand, which Liam was barely touching.

“So we heard you ran away, Charly?” a reporter asked.

Charly was just about to answer yes, when she felt Liam's leg bumping against hers. He quickly put a fist in front of his mouth, then cleared his throat. She took his leg bumping and sudden cough as signs not to answer. “Excuse me?” she asked the reporter, avoiding the question and buying time.

The lady reporter smiled. “Well, I received word that on your way here to Chicago, you ran away from your tour bus just so you could ride with Liam on his bus. Is that true?”

Liam's cough turned into a laugh, and he shook his head no. “Well, actually Charly didn't run away. I did. I did that
Star Trek
thing and had myself beamed onto her bus by Scotty. I believe that's what you guys call him. Scotty, right? It was all quite American,” he finished, making everyone laugh. “Seems you really can get anything you want in this country. I'm glad I came over here to work.” The audience of reporters laughed even louder, and so did Charly. “Otherwise I wouldn't have met Charly here, and discovered she loved this popcorn so much.” He reached down, then held up one of the large bags of popcorn he'd given her, opened it, and tossed a few kernels into his mouth. “Oh my!” he exclaimed, widening his eyes at Charly and nodding. Again, the reporters laughed, most approvingly and knowingly, and a couple of them yelled out that they loved that popcorn too.

“I told you it's delicious,” Charly said, then nudged her leg against Liam's as a way of thanking him for saving her. She wondered how the press had found out so quickly about her riding with him, then shrugged her shoulders. It really wasn't a big deal, at least no more of a big deal than her having a bus driver who didn't know where he was going—but she'd never tell that. Snitching just wasn't in her.

“And so are you, love. So are you.” Liam flirted, winking and playing it up for the cameras.

Mr. Day, standing in the back of the tent, waved his arm high in the air to get her attention, then held up his index finger. Charly nodded, getting the message, then leaned forward. “One more question only, please? The cast and I would really like to get out and eat something, and I need to get back to my dog, Marlow.”

Suddenly a dozen questions were tossed at her about Marlow, and Charly answered them all truthfully, including how she'd rescued Marlow, taken care of the tiny puppy when Charly was broke and moving from state to state, and why Marlow traveled with her now.

“So, pretty much, Marlow is like your baby?” another reporter asked.

Charly nodded, then her lips spread into a warm and welcoming smile. She outstretched her arms to receive Marlow as Mr. Day carried her dog down the aisle. “This is my baby, Marlow,” she said. The cameras flashed nonstop for almost a minute before Liam stood, then carefully pulled out Charly's chair so she could do the same. He wrapped his arm around her, posing for a few more pictures, then it was over.

“Thanks for the save, Liam. I'll see you outside at the real party,” Charly said before making her way toward the tent's exit. She had to go find Mason.

Marlow was in her arms as she made her way through the tent as quickly as she could. Reporters and other interviewers stopped her every few steps to say a quick hello or to try to sneak another question. Charly tried to be as cordial as she could, but she really had to go. Mason hadn't been too happy before she left, and she understood why. She wouldn't have felt too good either if she were in his position and some television personality one-upped her with a gift. Finally Lola appeared, pushing through the throngs of people.

“Charly, I've been waiting for you,” she said, walking quickly toward Charly and positioning herself in front of someone waiting for Charly's attention. “What's the holdup?” Lola asked, sidestepping the person.

Charly drew her brows together. “Well, I was just on my way out. And you couldn't have been waiting too long. Mr. Day just gave me Marlow a few minutes ago, and he had to get her from you, right? You're the one I left her with.”

“Sorry, I'll bring her right back. At least I'll try,” Lola said to the person who was waiting on Charly, then grabbed Charly's free hand, pulling her toward the tent exit. “No, that's the thing, Charly. After Sully's interviews, he wanted to go for a walk, so I gave Marlow to Mason. He was in here watching your interviews, and that's how Mr. Day got Marlow.”

Charly smiled. She didn't think Mason would be into watching her interview, and she thought it was sweet that he'd become so interested and was supporting her. He'd always seemed too smooth and cool for that. “Wow . . .”

Lola pulled her outside. She came toe-to-toe with Charly, her face more serious than Charly had seen it since Lola had discovered she was a love child. “No wow. Where.”

Charly set Marlow on the ground. Instinctively she looked around, somehow sure that Mason wouldn't be easy to find. “What do you mean,
where
, Lola?”

Lola shrugged her shoulders, then nodded her head to the left as if to indicate a direction.

“Nope! That won't do, Lola. Just spill. If you know where Mason is . . . If you know something I don't, get to talking.”

Lola rolled her eyes and pivoted. She began walking across the yard. “If you don't like what we find . . .”

“I can handle it. Don't you worry about it. You know me,” Charly said. Her words were more of a warning for whoever was doing her wrong, if anyone was. She followed Lola across the lawn, her anger building more and more with each step. Marlow whined next to her, as if sensing Charly's ill feeling. Charly exhaled, trying to dispel some of the bad feelings that were moving through her. Lola hadn't really said anyone had betrayed her, but her demeanor told Charly that something was wrong.

Lola stopped. She pointed to the main house. “I saw them in there. There's a terrace level on the side. It's a wall full of windows. You can't miss them.”

Charly drew her brows together. She wondered who was
them
. It was obvious that one of them was Mason, but with who and doing what? “Over there?” she asked, buying time. She was hesitant because she didn't know if she was prepared for whatever she was going to run into. She wasn't nearly as confident as she'd pretended to be with Lola. Lola nodded her head, reaching out her hand for Marlow's leash.

“Here goes nothing or everything,” Charly said to herself, walking carefully and quietly to the side of the house. Passing the perfectly manicured bushes, she watched and smiled at people who decorated the lawn like weeds. They were everywhere, but what else could she expect at an outdoor party? She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the nervousness and wanting to quiet the thumping sound in her ears that was compliments of her racing heart.
Just a few feet more
, she thought, finally rounding the corner of the huge house. Then the beating in her veins stopped. And so did her breath. “Oh. No.” Beside the house were Mason and Annison. They were talking and laughing, holding cups of who knew what, and looking a bit too familiar and comfortable with one another for Charly's liking. “No. No. No-no-no! What's all this about? Annison? Mason?” Charly questioned, speed-walking to where they stood. “I know y'all—”

Lola ran over and jumped in front of Charly. “Not here. Don't lose your career over this.”

Charly pushed past Lola. “Annison, I know you're not trying to play me. Do you not know who I am? You may be a celebrity, but I can change all that. Not now, but right now.”

Annison, still laughing, swept her hair off her bare shoulder, then locked eyes with Charly. Her smile died.

“Beat her later, Charly,” Lola whispered.

Annison's eyes widened. “Charly—”

“Don't
Charly
me!” Charly snapped. She'd gotten so close to Annison that she could feel her breath bounce off Annison's face. “The minute I turn my back, you're all up in his face. Really?” She turned to Mason. “Really, Mason?”

Mason held up his hands. “Charly, calm down. It's nothing. I swear. She was just telling me how brilliant you were when you snuck on that show and pretended to be cast as a bus rider. Remember?”

Without hesitation or guilt, Annison smiled. “Charly! Hey, Charly. You're getting this all wrong. We were just laughing and celebrating you. I wouldn't do that. I'm your friend and costar. And Mason is crazy about you. But I don't need to tell you.”

Mason shook his head as if disgusted with her. “I can't believe you'd accuse me.”

Charly swallowed, trying to gauge her manner. She didn't know if she should be suspicious or feel silly for allowing distrust to creep in. She shook her head, feeling stupid. Mason had been nothing but good to her, and so had Annison. She had, after all, requested Charly be on the show, hadn't she? Charly spread her lips into a smile and paused, waiting for Mason to look at her. His eyes would tell her if they were being honest or not, she was sure of it. “Look at me, Mason.”

He looked at her, then exhaled. She was almost sure she could see his frustration dissolve. Finally, he laughed. He turned to Annison. “Now you see why she's my girl. Charly doesn't play.”

“I see. Glad you're on my side, Charly,” Annison said.

Charly looked at Mason. “I'm sorry. It's just that from a distance . . .” She shook her head. It was all becoming too much. Here she was accusing her man and her costar of doing something wrong, and she blamed herself. If she hadn't been feeling the way she was about Liam, she wouldn't be distrusting Mason.

Mason smiled. “Well, if I questioned if you still cared about me or not . . .” He nodded and smiled. “You did very well in the interviews. I caught some of them.” He kissed her on the cheek, then took her hand.

“Yes. I gave him an all-access pass. I thought it'd be good for him to see,” Annison said, joining them. “Listen, it was good talking to you, Mason.” She patted him on the back in a friendly way, almost grandmotherly like. “I'll see you guys later. I need to go chat it up with a friend,” she said, then began to walk away from them. “Oh yes.” She turned and paused. “Charly, thank you so much for today. You made the show interesting and fun. I'm so glad you're on it. Mason told me about you. About everything you went through to make your dreams come true. We're more alike than I knew. I don't give up or give in either,” she said, then walked away, holding up her cup like she was toasting. “I hope that means that you'll finally meet us for morning yoga.” Her invitation hung in the air, but Charly caught it.

Charly smiled. So she'd been wrong about Mason and Annison, and it didn't bother her like it should've. This wasn't the time to want to be right—it was the time to be sure, and she was so excited about the invite that she was even happier to be mistaken. Yes, she'd be there, but she'd keep cool about it. “So what are you drinking?” she asked.

Mason held his cup out to her, showing her there was nothing in it. “Annison gave me some nasty green healthy junk, and I poured it out. That's the other reason she was laughing so hard. No one had ever told her the drink was nasty, and she couldn't believe it. Seems she's got a lot of butt-kissers in her corner, who are too afraid to keep it one-hundred with her.” He pulled her hand, and they began to walk. “I'm glad we get a little time to ourselves before I have to head over to my cousin's for the night. And I saw the perfect place for us too. There's this spot over there, surrounded by bushes and next to the water.” He pointed. “If you go wait for me, I'll bring us something to drink. Maybe grab a plate. I'm starving, and I know you must be.” He kissed her on the cheek.

Charly nodded, blushing. Keeping her eyes on the bench, she walked quickly toward the cozy sitting area that was a lot farther away than it had seemed. She didn't want anyone to beat her to it.

“Hey Charly! Wait!” Lola called from by the sitting area where she was standing with Sully. She walked over and grabbed Charly's arm, stopping her before she made it to the bench. “Don't trust them, Charly,” she warned, keeping up with Charly's strides and pulling Marlow along. “Well, at least not her. Don't trust her. Annison can't be trusted. She was all over Mason when I saw them.”

Charly stopped and looked Lola in the eyes. “All over him, like what? Touching him? Kissing him? What?”

Lola shrugged. “Well, neither one of them, really. She was just hanging a little too close to him, if you ask me, and laughing. Nothing can be that funny.” She shook her head. “It appeared to be nothing, but trust me, it was everything. Flirting on top of flirting. I felt it.”

Lola was being her suspicious self, reading too much into it. Charly began walking again and Lola accompanied her. The spot by the water was too comfy to let anyone beat her and Mason to it. “So they weren't doing anything? No hugging? No kissing? No touching? They were just laughing? Is that what you're telling me, Lola?” She looked over toward where the bench was and saw Sully pass the area, then another person walked near there, lingering. Charly hoped they'd keep going.