Someone I Used to Know

chapter Thirteen

Declan


There would be no need for the cover set. They’d been working on a reserve set in case the weather acted up, but there was no way an Arc Light could come close to matching the brilliance of the real sun on this fantastically clear day. The three hour drive to a more isolated spot on California’s coastline was one hundred percent worth it.

The only people on the beach were the crew and hired extras, which did a lot to eliminate another incident like what Adley had experienced. She was skittish enough as it was, without throwing in a thousand screeching females, and I wasn’t all that terribly surprised she’d been avoiding me ever since.

Bloated white tents bloomed unnaturally in the sand like fat mushrooms, and a dolly was being assembled closer to the shore. The moving camera would be used later to capture a romantic walk along the coast between our two leads at sunset. It was my only scene scheduled for the day, leaving me a good six hours to dodge autograph seekers, while Georgia, Madeline, and the fake Adairs filmed footage for the opening sequence of the movie. Scenes are rarely shot in order. It’s all about convenience. Two scenes called for a beach setting, so there I was.

The water crested over bulging rocks in the distance, but it was only a soft foam by the time it nestled the sand. I was drawn to it, my eyes on the horizon.

I had to be careful to stay out of the shot that played out further up the beach between Madeline and the actors playing her family, but I knew it was worth it the second my toes squished into the gritty sand beneath the sea. I was homesick, horribly so. The realization hit me violently, taking me by surprise.

As little waves soaked the ends of my trousers (I would definitely be on the receiving end of a scolding from the wardrobe department), I indulged in the smallest most inconsequential connection I had to Australia. The same water that touched me, through many oceans and kilometers and currents, also brushed against the shore of the Lucky Country I called home.

“Don’t feel bad. Boys fall in love with me all the time.”

I spun in the surf to gape at Adley, whose dry toes tittered just beyond the ocean’s grasp.

The alarm must have shone on my face, because she kicked sand at me, her expression clear with annoyance.

“The scene you’re filming today with Madeline…” she trailed off pointedly, expecting me to understand something. “That’s the first line.”

“What makes you think I’m in love with you?” I rattled off Cam’s line, the memorized words stumbling over themselves as I jerked my gaze back to the horizon that was missing the setting sun the script called for.

“People only gaze out over a landscape like that with such brooding concentration for two reasons; either you’re in love or you’re posing for an anti-depressant ad,” Madeline’s line slipped easily from the real Adley Adair’s lips. She pulled it off like a pro, but then again, it wasn’t really acting for her.

I applauded her effort anyways, breaking character and shaking my legs free of salty residue as I joined her on the dry sand.

Adley sank into a mocking curtsy that was graceful even if done in jest.

“Did this actually happen – you and Cam discussing your forbidden feelings with the sunset blazing as a soundtrack in the background?”

“Not even close. You Hollywood people have to over-romanticize everything.” She made a face. “Simple things can be beautiful too, you know?”

Her eyes almost matched the sea when the water reflected off of them. A need sizzled inside of me. More than anything I wanted to know what was behind that look.

“How did it really happen?”

The softness vanished, leaving in its place hard eyes filled with skepticism.

“In the entire time we’ve known each other, what indication have I ever given you that sharing intimate details about my past relationship was even a remote possibility?”

“Maybe the fact that I started getting to know you intimately.” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively.

She kicked enough sand at me to ensure a costume change.

My only choice was to retaliate by shoving her to the ground and rubbing sand in her hair. After another few cheap shots, I had her by the legs and a few pulls away from the icy water when someone cleared their throat behind us.

I instantly dropped Adley’s legs, and smiled contritely at Madeline, who was standing a few steps away with hands poised tightly on her tiny waist.

“We’ve wrapped for lunch.” Every line of her face bowed with disapproval.

“Thanks, ankle biter.” I exchanged limbs, grabbing Adley’s hand instead of her leg that time, and yanked her to her feet.

Madeline continued to frown at us before turning briskly and marching back to the tent where the crafts’ department was setting out food.

I followed dutifully, letting Madeline’s powerful strides carry her out of hearing distance before I murmured to Adley, “We’re in troooouble.”

Not that I was expecting her to giggle, but when I was treated to nothing but silence. I looked over my shoulder to find the space empty. It only took me a second to spot her heading up the beach in the opposite direction.

“You’re such a stalker,” she announced hearing my footsteps.

I ignored her. Really, it was second nature at this point. “Where are you going?”

Our slanted path was leading us towards a nearly deserted parking lot right off the road.

“I’m going to get a hotdog from a vendor I saw on the way in. The real question is – what do you think you’re doing?”

“Well now that you’ve made it sound so appetizing, I want one too.” I gave her a toothy smile that I’d been told was endearing.

“Oh, no, no, no.” And she was off again, kicking sand up in her wake. “I want lunch, not to be swept up in another riot thrown in your honor.”

“Well I want one.”

“You’re a toddler,” she accused, but quit walking. Her mouth twisted unpleasantly before she relaxed and pointed to an isolated bench at the edge of the beach. “Go wait over there. But this is the last time I enable your diva ways.”

I did as she instructed. I wasn’t going to push my luck.

Nearly fifteen minutes later, she finally joined me on the bench with an armful of food.

“I’m noticing a trend here,” I said as the crinkling of our wrappers filled the air.

“Oh?” She was barely paying attention to me, breathing in the scent of the junk food. I couldn’t blame her. It smelled delicious.

“I’ve never seen you eat with the rest of the cast and crew. Actually, I’ve never really seen you interact with anyone on set besides me or Madeline & company.”

She had no response, and I was sure I’d run into another roadblock. They seemed to be waiting around every turn with her.

“They stare at me.” Her voice was soft, wrangled into aloofness.

“You’re really complaining about people staring at you when you almost got me mauled a few days ago to satisfy your sweet tooth?” I teased, swallowing down a whole bite of the steaming delicacy. Americans really knew their foods.

“They stare at you to marvel at your impressive life, the weight of your accomplishments. They stare at me for the same reason you slow down to look at a car accident.”

We were quiet, finishing our food. Curiously, I watched Adley pinch off a bit of bread and toss it into the sand.

And then I saw them, terrifying creatures flocking towards us with evil in their lifeless eyes. Adley tossed some more bread their way.

“What the hell are you doing!?” I hadn’t realized how close I was to the end of the bench until I fell of the side, trying to flee the monsters.

Her mouth hung open as she watched me scurry away from her and the bench.

“I’m feeding the seagulls,” she stated slowly. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Those birds have diseases, you know.” My eyes never left the flying terrors that flapped near her feet.

“You’re scared of them.” Realization spiked her words with amusement.

I eyed the bird-free space to my right and thought about making a run for it.

“Fine, fine,” she shooed the varmints away. “Now tell me what your complex is.”

I took a deep breath, reluctant to share, but frightened she’d call them back if I didn’t.

“My sisters invited me to watch Hitchcock’s The Birds with them when I was four. I was led to believe it was the sequel to The Little Mermaid. Needless to say, it had a lasting impact.”

“They sound like fun girls.” The smile on her face was possibly the biggest I’d ever seen.

She was wrong. My sisters were a bunch of spoiled mongrels. But her smile was oddly contagious and not even one of the scariest moments of my life could keep me from catching it. I relaxed into my seat, but kept a careful watch for any lingering invaders of the sky.

Adley was right about one thing. Simple moments could be beautiful too. It was then, staring out at the never-ending stretch of ocean, that I finally understood California’s appeal for the first time.

She was staring at me. I could feel it. But to acknowledge her gaze was to reveal the profound affect she had on me.

“That stupid line from the movie – the one I refuse to admit actually came out of my mouth – it was wrong, you know…If I had said that, it was only because I was some poor, naïve seventeen-year-old that had never known what it’s like to miss home so badly – so deeply – it makes you try to find pieces of it anywhere you are, even in the smallest of places, even when it makes no sense at all.”

It was like she was speaking the words right off my soul. I’d never been homesick before. Ironic it happened then, when I’d actually found a piece of California I wanted to keep.

“Even if you’re only a few miles from home, standing on the very same coastline that your parents can see out there window?” I asked, turning the table back on her.

Her eyes focused determinedly ahead as she nodded and wiped briefly at the corner of her eyes for an absent bit of moisture that never materialized.

“Even if you’re hundreds of thousands of miles away,” she assured me.

I’d seen the danger coming.

Even when I’d just wanted to f*ck her, even when I’d thought she was just a puzzle, even when I was just trying to get her out of my system, I’d always known I was playing with fire. I liked her. I liked her so much I didn’t know what to call it anymore. I liked every twisted thing she said, and most telling of all, I wanted to spend every waking moment with her, even though she was a pain in my ass, sometimes especially then.

She was also the best root I’d ever had, and you just didn’t let sex like that slip through your fingers.

There were strings. Actually, the point of just having strings was a far distant memory. There were chains. I was chained to her.

We were in a good place, though. I sure as hell wasn’t going to ruin it by trying to discuss my newly realized feelings with her. She couldn’t be trusted with them.

Not then, but one day.

***

Eventually an AD found us there, and ordered us back to set. Or really he just ordered Adley back to Madeline’s side, but she was my source of entertainment, and without her I would’ve just been the creepy bloke sitting by himself.

I didn’t like hanging around set when I wasn’t called, but there was no trailer for me to hide in, and observing wasn’t without its advantages. There was something strangely adorable about watching Adley run from Madeline. Adley was a fortress, and Madeline reduced her to a frightened kitten.

“I thought I was the method actor here.” Madeline stepped in front of me.

I was sitting in one of the spare directors’ chairs, and for once, we were nearly eyelevel.

“You can be whatever you want, ankle biter.”

“You don’t actually have to be sleeping with Adley Adair to get into character.” Her hands found security on her hips in an irritated gesture.

My face caught, just before it blanched with shock, quickly smoothing back into measured blankness.

“And why are you interested in whoever my bed partner might be?

Cat-green eyes were narrowed at me, explaining how much she didn’t buy my bullshit.

“Do not f*ck this up for me, Davies. I need this.”

And then she was done. I could say nothing, do nothing. All I could do was watch her walk away.

Her shadow remained though. Fran didn’t take the place Madeline left unoccupied, and instead sidled up to the place beside me. She’d heard everything.

“Does everyone think we’re rooting?” I asked casually. My fingers tapped the arm of the chair. My other hand resisted the urge to ruffle my hair, mindful of the hairstylist milling about, ready to jump out and scold me at any moment.

“You are sleeping with her, and believe me, if the princess of unobservance has picked up the scent, then pretty much anyone who cares enough to know, does.”

She made an excellent point.

My gaze sought Adley across the beach. I’d been placed under a tent earlier, with Georgia screeching about my complexion and the sun’s aging properties, but Adley was free to stand out of the shadows. She was dwarfed at Alfred’s side, speaking to him with exaggerated facial expressions. The exotic bodyguard looked as blank as always, but I couldn’t imagine how. Her hair, which had been pulled into a ponytail all day, was a mess, windblown and wild. Her cheeks were chapped, peach-colored, and lips entirely too kissable.

“Why does she even care?” I took the subject and my eyes off of Adley.

“Exactly the reason she told you. Never doubt Madeline’s capability for self-preservation. She needs Adley for this film. If you hurt Adley, and she leaves, then Madeline’s screwed.” She paused and I let the silence stew because it was clear she had something more to say. “I’m also going to choose to believe, somewhere deep down, even though she’d never admit it, that Madeline actually doesn’t want Adley to be hurt either. Maybe, it’s just some residual effect of pretending to be her so much, but maybe, just maybe, she actually cares for her on some human level.”

“Why is she so convinced that I’ll be the one doing the hurting?” Okay, so I didn’t specialize in long-term relationships. I wasn’t a root rat. For a man in my position, I thought I’d done a reasonable job of not abusing my power. Their assumptions niggled at me.

“I really do like you, Declan,” the words were promising, but her tone lacked encouragement.

“But?”

“But I like Adley too. She’s…” I couldn’t fault her struggle for words. Adley was hard to pin with a label, “unintentionally likeable.”

I smiled at that. It was an oddly fitting description.

“Don’t look so charmed. I’m not finished.” My grin deflated. “Adley’s not The Girl in the Yellow Dress. At least she’s not anymore…But that doesn’t ease the burden of the scars that are still hers to bare. She doesn’t need someone like you in her life. She needs people who are going to stick around, and you and I both know, you’re not a stick-er. You can’t be the kind of person she needs.”

“Why not? Why are you both so sure that I’m not exactly what she needs? Who are you to make that kind of decision for her?”

She said nothing, scrutinizing me as if she was learning something new. It made me wish I’d kept my mouth shut.

“You actually care about her, don’t you?” There was no attempt to disguise the utter disbelief that she felt.

My composure frayed at the edges, and with clenched fists and eyes straying everywhere but her prodding caramel irises, I had no response. It was one thing I wouldn’t lie about. My silence was telling enough.

“Well then, you really don’t have a choice at all…You have to let her go.”

***

I sat there the rest of the day, distracted by the words left echoing in my head, bouncing off the cavernous hillsides of my empty mind.

To distract myself, I turned my phone on. The number of missed calls didn’t even eclipse the triple digit mark – an improvement.

I really needed to make a final decision on an assistant. Everyone we’d met had been qualified, but none of them jumped out at me as the obvious choice. Maybe I was expecting too much. I wasn’t holding auditions for my new best mate. I just needed to choose.

Adley had told me to pick the little blond Barbie, Candace Harris. She said it was obvious from the interviews I’d connected with her the most, and I couldn’t exactly share that I’d only been ‘connecting’ with Ms. Harris so much in an attempt to make her jealous.

It hadn’t even worked. Adley had been cool, indifferent, almost to the point of boredom. When I’d openly ogled Candace’s rear end as she exited, Adley had gone as far as to suggest I ask her out, as long as I wasn’t going to select her for the position. After all, she’d pointed out helpfully, it was in bad taste to mix business and pleasure.

I’d never wanted to make a girl jealous before. Usually, it just happened naturally. Envy was an ugly color on most women. It was around the time that they started turning green that I reached for the door.

Judging by the reaction I’d gotten from Adley, my feeble attempts could use some fine tuning. If the situation had been different I could have asked her for a few tips, because she was doing a pretty damn good job of turning me green.

I used to like Cam. Post-Adley, all I wanted was for him to stay wherever the hell it was he’d run off to.

I wasn’t even all that jealous of the relationship they’d shared in the past. What I really yearned for was the honesty, the trust, the explicit truth that resided between them, almost as potent as a living, breathing thing. He got an all-access pass into the fortress while I was left standing outside, begging for scraps.

A coarse, foul laugh choked my lungs. I needed another distraction.

I made a move to put my phone away when it vibrated in my hand. I dismissed the errant thought of ignoring the unknown caller. One less voicemail was one less call I had to return.

“Mr. Declan Davies?” A female voice responded to my greeting.

“What can I do for you?” I slipped in a nice dose of charm in reaction to her business-like tone.

She cleared her throat. “Do you have any comment of SoCal Weekly’s upcoming story on Adley Adair?”

“Who is this?”

“Barbara Swan Beat writer.SoCal Weekly,” she rattled off briskly over the line.

“You’re a journo?”

“I’m a reporter, Mr. Davies.”

F*cking Americans.

“I’ll be answering all questions about The Girl in the Yellow Dress at the movie’s press junket later this year.” My line was straight out of the studio’s publicist’s mouth. It was what I was supposed to say to any request concerning the movie.

“Our article pertains to the actual woman Adley Adair, who C.A. Peterson’s bestselling book is based on,” she continued on her merry way as ice gushed through my veins.

It was impossible. Before Adley had even arrived in California, we’d all been asked to sign confidentiality agreements about everything from her presence on set, to her very existence. Surely, no one would have risked the studio’s wrath to leak such a benign story. She went almost completely unnoticed on set, mostly being lumped in as just another one of Madeline’s offsiders.

“Do you have any comment on the allegations that the two of you are dating, Mr. Davies?” My silence invited more bad news, and the journo wasn’t done yet. “The pictures of you and Ms. Adair together are quite tasteful. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

Well…I certainly hadn’t been expecting that shocking little turn of events.

“No comment,” I mumbled, snapping the phone shut, unsure if she’d even heard.

There was no time to process.

“You’re needed on set immediately, Mr. Davies.” I barely took note of the crew member who came to fetch me.

I couldn’t tell Adley. She would lose it. Totally and completely, one hundred percent, lose her shit. She’d panic. Maybe even leave.

No, she’d definitely leave.

It really left me with no choice. I couldn’t tell her.

I wouldn’t.

I soothed the questionable decision with the knowledge that the article would come out whether she knew about it or not. The risk of telling her just wasn’t one I was willing to take. She couldn’t leave.

I wasn’t ready for this to be over.

I wasn’t ready to be without her.

I couldn’t let her go…not yet.