The Director (Hollywood Nights) (10 page)

Chapter
7

           
“Come, sit with me.” He patted the
seat next to him on the couch. He knew this was awkward for her. Hell, it was
awkward for him. He believed his Godfather. He just needed to confirm it. Some
sick part of him just had to see it.

           
“I’m fine here,” she said in her
quiet voice. His gut clenched. He hated this for her. She had to face it
eventually. Thanks to his uncle, they thoroughly investigated every single
person on the set and found an underage actress in the scene with Shay. The
videos were pulled immediately. They could remove the one with the underage
actress, including Shay, and re-release it. The company wouldn’t out Shay
without outing themselves for child pornography, even if it was only by a day
the girl was still seventeen. Apparently there was a limited amount released
with that scene anyways because it wasn’t what they wanted to begin with.

           
He nodded, looked at the screen and
pressed play. It was the first scene, a young woman stepped into view, the
camera panned out to reveal Shay wearing a blonde wig and contacts. The
butterfly tattoo had been removed from her ankle to assist with disassociating
any connection to the film. Either that or it was a fake. She didn’t have one
now, he knew that for sure.

           
She was wearing a yellow,
ill-fitting teddy. It was larger than it needed to be and hiding more than it
showed. She picked up a leather strap and popped it in her hand. A woman, the
seventeen year old, entered the room followed by a man. Shay gave directions, then
instructions, in a terrible Russian accent. She was a part of it, but removed
from it. She never took off the teddy. She didn’t touch them with her body
except her hands and for no longer than the time it took to push them around
and into positions. She occasionally slapped the strap across her hand or
thighs as she barked orders.

           
“The production value on this is
atrocious. Look at this camera angle, who does that?” He spoke out loud his
genuine disapproval of the quality of the film. The couple completed. Shay
barked more directions, and then threw the strap as she walked out of the room.
“It’s over.”

           
She was sitting on the arm of the
chair, facing away from the television, away from him, and ready to leave at
any moment.

           
“Is this the only one?” he asked.

           
She nodded.

           
“Was it your first real job?”

           
She nodded again.

           
“Shay, you have to talk to me, babe.
I know this is being kept a secret, but if it comes out, you have to be able to
talk about it. If not to me, then who?” He patted the couch again. He was a
glutton for punishment. His head was throbbing, his woman was angry and
ashamed, and he was failing to communicate that he wasn’t judging her.
 
“Come sit with me.”

           
“What am I supposed to say?” she
asked. “I’m ashamed of it. I can’t take it back. I had to pay my tuition. I
dropped out because I couldn’t afford to stay, but I owed the college partial
payment for the dorm and I didn’t have the money. My grandmother left me a lot
of money when she died, but she didn’t know what was going on back then. I
didn’t tell her. I didn’t tell anyone. I was embarrassed.”

           
“Come here, Shay.” He held his arm
outstretched towards her.

           
“Would it make a difference?” She
turned and looked at him. Anger blazed in those green eyes.

           
“Would what make a difference?”

           
“If I had taken my clothes off and
fucked someone, Jed! Would it have made a difference? Huh? Because I almost
did. I was supposed to. I didn’t, but I was supposed to,” she shouted. She put
her hands over her face and cried. “You wouldn’t be asking me to come and sit
next to you then, would you?”

           
He thought so. He knew the moment
his uncle told him she had participated in a pornographic film his first
thought was something had to have happened for her to resort to it. Then Harvey
advised him not to judge her, but he thought it would be best for both of them
to get it out in the open since she was wearing that hoodie.

He wanted to smile, but couldn’t.
“Shay, celebrities are getting caught on camera fucking someone every week
anymore. Hell, you’d probably get work faster if you told everyone based on
what they are doing with television these days. I wasn’t your first. I’m man
enough to admit that I would have been jealous as hell to see you fucking
someone else, but I’m old enough to know that you have.”

           
His head was pounding, his stomach
lurched. He had been feeling like shit since talking with a casting director at
the barbecue. She had mentioned after shaking his hand, pulling him into a hug,
and kissing his cheek that she wasn’t feeling so hot and that her children were
home with the flu. It was probably Karma for telling her she should be home
with them rather than at his mother’s barbecue.

           
He was sure his face must have
expressed his discomfort because she wiped her tears and said, “Jed, are you
all right?”

           
He stood and ran to the bathroom. He
made it in time to empty his guts into the commode. He didn’t have time to lock
the door behind him. She was almost to the door when he used his foot to shut
it. She banged on the door and called his name as he heaved another section of
his stomach into the commode.

           
He had been in some terrible places
in the past couple of years, but even when he was afraid he might die, he never
felt
like he actually was. His legs
shifted as he heaved again and the door opened. If he could trade places, he
would gladly show her a pornographic film where he didn’t take off his clothes
but gave people directions in a bad Russian accent rather than have her witness
him on his knees, heaving his guts up, and feeling unsure if he could stand on
his own steam.

           
“Go away,” he said as he pushed his
arm out and waved blindly in her direction.

           
He groaned as he flushed the last
round of his guts down the commode. He could hear the rustling of clothing. He
knew she just pulled off his sweatshirt. Then the sink turned on.

           
“I don’t want you to see me like
this, go damn it!” He had emptied his guts and the next heave hurt like hell as
nothing really came up. “Fuck!”

           
“Let me get this straight,” Shay
said as she pressed a cold wet washcloth to the back of his neck. “You can
watch the most humiliating moment of my life, but I can’t watch you toss your
dinner?”

           
“Exactly,” he groaned. “You don’t
understand. I don’t get sick. I…”

           
She waited until the next dry heave
was over before placing her hand on his forehead. “You have a fever. I thought
you just had a headache. When did you start feeling bad?”

           
“Polly, her kids have the…” he
heaved, groaned, “flu.”

           
“I need to tell your sister. You
held Buddy and she’s pregnant. They will be a mess if they catch it.”

           
He appreciated her concern for his
family. It touched his heart. Right before he felt like he was throwing it up.

           
“Pocket,” he said as he tried deep
breaths.

           
Her hands were on him, feeling
around for his phone. He was puking his guts out and his dick still responded.
She pulled out the phone and said, “Sorry, I didn’t realize you weren’t wearing
underwear. I just felt something hard and only after grabbing it realized it
wasn’t the phone. What’s the password?”

           
Fuck,
fuck, fuck
. This was not something he wanted to say out loud. He had only
recently changed it from one woman’s name to the other. It had been Dana, his
high school sweetheart’s name since he had a phone that required a password.
Now it was, “Shay.”

           
“Yes,” she picked up the washcloth
and turned it over. Patiently she said, “What, Jed? Tell me what you need and
then tell me the password.”

           
“The password is Shay.”

***

Shay was sure her world had taken
a turn for the surreal. Jed wasn’t repelled by her video, and that only made it
harder for her because she was trying to figure out how to stop letting him
past her walls. He was a stealth bomber, exploding through them without any
warning. She typed in her own name and scrolled through the contacts until she
found his sister’s name.

“Janice, hi. This is Shay. Jed
needed me to call you to tell you that Patty…”

“Polly,” he corrected then dry
heaved again.

“I’m sorry, Polly has the flu. He
is throwing up now, so it is fast acting. He picked up Buddy. I don’t know if
that woman is still there, but he wanted me to tell you.”

Janice was grateful. She was also
there with Frankie and Jed’s mom. Helen Gunner did not take the news that a
casting director was giving her guests, especially her son, the flu very well.
Shay said goodbye and ended the call.

“Your mom is pissed,” she said as
she sat the phone on the counter. She picked up the washcloth and ran cool
water over it again. “We need to get you to bed.”

The task was easier said than
done. Shay looked at the man hugging the commode as his back arched, strained,
and nothing hit the water in the toilet. It had to hurt like hell. She stroked
his back and he groaned in agony. “Come on, Jed. I’ll carry the trash can. It
has a liner in it. If you need to stop, you can.”

He weakly protested with, “Go
home, Shay.”

“No.” She slid her hands to his
chest and pulled up. She would likely throw her back out if he didn’t get with
the program. “You wanted me here. You wanted to see the ugly parts of my life.
Now, you are going to show me the ugly parts of yours. Get up, Jed. I can’t
very well carry you.”

He pushed weakly onto trembling
legs. He didn’t look at her. She grabbed the trashcan and walked with him. He
made it half way up the stairs before he had to stop and throw up. At least
this time something came up. Maybe the walk helped shake it up in there. Maybe
he was throwing up stomach acid. Either way, he was pitiful to look at. He
practically crawled the rest of the way up the stairs.

Her heart ached for him. He sat
on the bed and she pulled his t-shirt over his head. It was soaked in sweat.
She handed him the cool cloth and he wiped his face and beard with it. She
sighed. He was supposed to put it on his neck or forehead. She touched his
face. He was burning up, but shivering like he was cold. “Let me prop these
pillows up behind you.”

“I sleep on that side.”

“Not tonight,” she said gently. He
lay back against the pillows. She pulled the button free on his cargo shorts
and then undid the zipper. She pulled his pants down and off ignoring the fact
that he was again growing hard because she was touching him. She was sure this
was not how he planned the night to go. “Which drawer has your underwear in
it?”

He pointed to the dresser as if
that explained it. As she moved to the dresser she heard the rustling of the
bed linen. After locating a pair of boxers for him she turned only to find him
cozied up under the blankets with his eyes closed and sleep taking over.

She placed the boxers on the
nightstand, pulled the liner from the wastebasket, and went to the bathroom to
replace it with another one.

Shay removed the evidence of her
disgrace, broke it, and placed it in the trash with the evidence of his. She found
some disposable gloves under the kitchen sink with other cleaning supplies. She
put a pair on and took the trash out. As she was returning she noticed a limo
pulling up in front of the house. Helen Gunner didn’t wait for the driver. She
was already out of the car and on her way to the door when she saw Shay.

“Shay, dear!” The woman smiled.
“How is my baby?”

“He has the flu, I’m sure of it,”
she said as she made her way to where the woman was standing. She noticed the
glass container and asked, “Soup?”

“I keep it on hand in the
freezer. I can pop it out and heat it up,” she said. “How are you feeling,
dear?”

“I’m just fine.” Shay said it as
she had practiced with Alex when confronted with an awkward situation. She had
tossed the disposable gloves with the trash and now wondered if she was
supposed to shake hands or…she wasn’t sure what to think or expect. His family
had been overwhelmingly positive in their response to her. She wasn’t used to
it.

They entered the house and Helen
handed Shay the bowl. “Try a cup at a time, dear. Just
 
a sip until he can hold it down long enough
for another sip. Then keep trying it every half hour he keeps it down until he
can drink a whole cup. But not tonight. The first eight hours are the worst. I
could strangle Poppy for this. Not ten minutes after you called my grandson
started complaining of a headache. I’m heading to Janice’s house next.”

Shay stood there holding the
container of soup for several moments after Helen Gunner disappeared up the
stairs. The fact that the woman was there tending her oldest son, a man over
forty, and then would be going to see her grandson said a lot about her
commitment to family.

After placing the soup in the
refrigerator she headed to the room. Jed must have made another bathroom run
since the boxers were off the nightstand and nowhere to be seen. He was
sleeping. His mother didn’t stand close to him, likely because she was going to
see Buddy Junior afterwards.