Someone I Used to Know

chapter Sixteen

Declan


It was getting worse. In the four days following the original article’s release, the story of the real Adley Adair and our supposed relationship had been picked up by numerous other gossip magazines and websites. Paparazzi stalked us like ravenous buzzards.

I was safe inside the confines of my gated community. No one had managed to scale a fence…yet. Going anywhere else had become a disaster, and yet there I was, in the limo, tapping my fingers nervously, as we headed into the belly of the beast, or as some people liked to call it, Beverly Hills. Rodeo Drive to be exact.

The cloudy sky didn’t warrant the sunglasses or baseball cap I wore, and they looked terribly out of place with the rest of my polished attire. Nevertheless, I was thankful for the small shields as Lazarus pulled the car to a stop in front of the restaurant.

My hope for a quiet entrance was instantly dashed as I stared at the dozen or so camera-faced men and women. How did they even know someone worth taking a picture of would be there? All the American intelligence agencies were really missing out on some potential with these guys. They could find anybody.

My hand lingered above the handle, procrastinating the inevitable, and for the one-hundredth time that morning, I had to remind myself why I was putting myself through the hassle. If it had been anyone else that called requesting a meeting, I would’ve blown them off, no problem. But this was one man you didn’t turn down.

I steeled myself, and then finally took the plunge. Flashes ignited as soon as my foot hit the ground.

“Declan! Declan!”

“Over here!”

They crammed along both sides of the stairway leading up to Urasawa, and I shuffled past them as gracefully as my tense body allowed. When shouting my name didn’t rattle my downward concentration, they resorted to new tactics.

“How does it feel, knowing your girlfriend has a child she abandoned?”

My foot paused for just an instant as my hands clenched at my sides before I powered on with even more determination to get it over with than before.

“Are you in love, Mr. Davies?”

“What’s Adley’s current involvement with C.A. Peterson?”

All they wanted was a reaction. Me, walking into a restaurant for lunch by myself wasn’t going to sell many papers or earn them any more hits on their websites.

“Mr. Davies, over here!”

And then it was over. The door clicked closed behind me, and the noise muffled into nothing behind the shaded glass.

My hands shook, pulling off my baseball hat and sunglasses. I tried to smooth out the unruly locks that had actually looked presentable before I’d been forced to ruin it with hat hair. When it was as good as it was going to get, I got into the elevator, and was only joined by a serious faced man in a business suit with a pretty young girl at his side. The age difference was impressive, but in that town you never knew. If their hair hadn’t been the exact same shade of light brown, and without their unusual, slightly too-large noses, I might have mistaken them for a couple instead of father and daughter.

We rode in silence up to the second floor, but as soon as we stepped inside the elegant restaurant, the girl couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I don’t want to bother you, but you’re Declan Davies, aren’t you?” She smiled, but it wasn’t a scary I’m-going-to-follow-you-into-the-bathroom-and-dig-your-used-paper-towel-out-of-the-bin smile. It was calm, friendly.

I looked around nervously before nodding. Her father watched us disapprovingly, but kept quiet.

“Would you mind signing an autograph for me? We watched Letters to My Former Self in my film class, and I thought it was really beautiful. I even started a club at school to help raise money for homeless teens.” Her eyes shined genuinely.

“Ace! I’d be happy to.” And I meant it. I didn’t mind this part of being famous. A lot of times the negatives seemed overwhelming, but every once in a while, I was reminded of the positive influence my fame could have as well. The good parts were usually just a whole lot quieter, like a sweet girl inspired by a character I’d brought to life, than the screaming mongrels that waited outside.

She reached for her purse to find a loose scrap of paper for me to sign, but I stopped her. I grabbed the permanent marker off the maître de stand, and quickly looped my scrawling signature across the bill of the hat I’d just been wearing.

“Wow! Thank you! We could totally auction this on eBay, and make some real money for the club.” Her eyes marveled at the hat like it was a piece of treasure, which was ironic, considering if I hadn’t given it to her, it had been headed straight to the trash.

I grinned, pleased with her enthusiasm, but shook my head.

“Don’t do that. You should keep it. Here, wait a second.” Digging out my wallet, I quickly scribbled out a check and handed it to her. “I’m sure it wouldn’t have gotten you more than that. The hat is yours, a personal gift from me.”

Her eyes widened comically at the amount, and I felt all the stress rolling off my body. It felt good to do something nice.

The maître de returned and led me to the table where my lunch companion was already waiting, inducing a whole new kind of nervous stress to itch up my spine. Platters of pristinely displayed sushi passed us on waiters’ raised hands, and I knew that even if it weren’t for the nerves, I wouldn’t have been excited about the food. I wasn’t a fan of raw fish, no matter how fashionable it was at the moment.

Between the public appearance and unappetizing meal, it was clear my only reason for being there was my respect for Joseph Hoffman. The man was a legend, and I was more than a little willing to make these exceptions to be in his acquaintance.

He stood up when I entered the private area where we’d be dining, his chocolate-colored hand extended to me in greeting. His head was shaved bald – shiny and round – and even though I knew he was pushing seventy, he exuded very little age.

For the first time in my life, I was a little star struck. I couldn’t think of single thing in the world to say, and I vowed to never again take amusement from the girls who got lightheaded at the sight of me.

“You’re a bit scrawnier than I was led to believe,” he broke the silence. His voice wasn’t the deep baritone his stature suggested, but instead light, almost musical in pitch.

I couldn’t help but laugh. No one had ever accused me of being smaller than expected. Usually it was the opposite.

“It’s an honor, Mr. Hoffman.”

He nodded briskly, accepting the compliment. “I hope you don’t mind I’ve gone ahead and ordered for us.”

“Not at all.” It was all the same to me.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve asked you here. You’re an actor at your prime, and I’m a retired director with a whole bunch of useless awards at home.” He paused, letting the waiter set our food down. The one good thing about Sushi was that it came in two short rows so I knew exactly how much I was going to have to suffer down.

I was clumsy with the chopsticks, but I’d just managed to wrangle the morsel into my mouth when he asked, “How do you feel about all these remakes the studios are enamored with right now? Because I think it’s a damn shame when not one of these idiots can summon up an original idea.”

I coughed violently, choking down the entire roll in my surprise.

“Settle down there, son,” he cautioned with a smirk. He liked that he’d shocked me.

“I haven’t been tempted by one yet, sir,” I replied honestly.

His grin only grew. The Cheshire Cat could have been modeled after his face. Hell, he was probably old enough for it.

“I’m about to try and change that, Mr. Davies.”

“Please call me Declan, sir.”

“Alright, Declan, I’m going to lay it out for you. About a year ago I came into some knowledge that one studio was trying to remake a particular picture, and ever since then I’ve done everything short of burn the place down trying to stop it from happening. You don’t mess with perfection, son…The audience though, they keep buying tickets, and as long as these remakes are making money, the studios are going to continue making them.”

I was lost. I understood what he was saying, but I was perplexed as to the context. Why was he telling me? Why then? Why me? It wasn’t like I didn’t know remakes were a hot ticket.

“Don’t hurt yourself there, son. You’re pretty enough to get away with not thinking at all, but it’s nice to see that there’s a brain in there…I was hoping that was the case.”

“I’m assuming you’re not asking me to help you keep this movie from getting made. You’re one of the most powerful men in Hollywood. Compared to you, I’m a minnow in this industry.”

“No, Declan, I’m afraid that this movie is getting made. I can’t fight it anymore, but I’m not just going to let any old Captain Ahab chase after this Moby Dick. If we’re going to do this, then I’ll be the one captaining this ship. I don’t trust anybody else not to ruin it.”

“You don’t literally mean the film Moby Dick, right?”

He laughed full and loud, and it bounced unashamedly beyond our private area and through the whole restaurant.

“No, son. We’ll be staying dry for this excursion, although the South is humid as hell.” His brown eyes penetrated mine, forcing me to understand the seriousness of what he was about to tell me. “We’re doing Gone with the Wind.”

My eyes bulged. “You want to remake Gone with the Wind?”

“Did I not just get done telling you that I didn’t? I don’t want to…I have to.” His plate sat empty in front of him, while I’d still only ingested the single roll that I’d accidentally swallowed whole. Thankfully, the conversation was insane enough that forgetting to eat was perfectly acceptable.

“Okay, you have to make Gone with the Wind. What does that have to do with me?”

“I think you might have to be my Rhett Butler.” His stare was calculating, measuring the angles of my face in a clinical way.

“I...I can’t be Rhett Butler! I’m –.”

“Scrawny, I know,” he cut me off, his face scrunched with displeasure at my lack of physical attributes.

“I was going to say Australian, and about a decade too young,” I corrected him, a little offended. I wasn’t that lacking, well over six feet and decently built.

“Irrelevant details.” He brushed his hand through the air like he was shooing away flies. He was undaunted by my very legitimate concerns. “For most of the production we’ll be in Australia. We need the weather. I know that’s home for you, and you know that this is the role of a lifetime.”

I nodded. No denying that. “I need to think about it.”

“I guess I can give you that,” he agreed, though he didn’t seem very happy about it. “I wouldn’t think too long though. Once word gets out about this, I’m going to have every actor under the age of eighty trying to woo me.”

“Can I ask you a question?” The meal was wrapping up, and I was sure I had whiplash. I needed to gather my thoughts.

“No, you’ve had your fill,” he said, a small smile still playing on his lips. “I do have a question for you though.”

“Okay,” I dragged out the word slowly, feeling uneasy.

“What’s she like? The real Adley Adair?”

My jaw dropped. Joseph seemed so above the frivolity of us mere mortals. He was like Zeus, lounging about Mt. Olympus, watching us all make fools of ourselves. Just hearing Adley’s name come out of his mouth was surreal.

“Don’t look so surprised, son. I might be old, but I’m still literate. I’m just as intrigued by the real Adley Adair as the rest of them.”

I doubted that. No one was as intrigued by her like I was.

“…She’s…unintentionally likeable.” I smiled as I stole Fran’s phrase. “And she’s just so much…more than anyone could ever hope to capture in a book.”

“Hell of a muse that one is, I imagine. Try and steal her away, will you? I’m going to need all the inspiration I can get for this monster.”

***

One day, I’d ask Joseph why he picked me, whether I took the role or not. I’m sure it would be an interesting conversation. As for my mental state after the brief, but possibly life changing lunch, I remained stunned.

Lazarus had parked ages ago, leaving me free to enter the back lot any I time I wanted, but I hadn’t moved. I stared at my phone resting in the palm of my hand. I wanted to tell someone. I’d just met Joseph Hoffman! He wanted to make a movie with me!

Joseph had made it clear the secret wasn’t safe with anyone in the industry. He’d said it with such pointed eye contact, I had little doubt that ‘anyone‘ firmly included my family. I would’ve liked to tell them, eager for their unpredictable reactions, but they weren’t the ones I wanted to share my news with the most.

Ironically, it was the one person I wanted to tell, that I could. Adley was so blissfully unaware of anything to do with our world, that I’d once seen her give Steven Spielberg an ugly look when he accidentally cut in front of her in the crafts’ line. She was the one person free of Joseph’s restraints, and yet, she was the one person I didn’t know how to tell.

Things had been weird ever since Cam returned. I’d sought her out a few times, but there was always an excuse as to why we couldn’t spend time together. She never told me to get lost either though, so I counted that as a good sign.

I missed her.

I hated that I did – that I’d grown disgustingly reliant on her, but there was no use denying it.

The days that had stretched on endlessly at the beginning of the summer had dwindled down, until just a few days of filming remained. The future hadn’t ever been something we discussed. It had seemed so distant, so insubstantial. I knew that her flight home wasn’t scheduled until the beginning of September, and we’d talked about my lack of a follow-up project a few times.

It seemed like, for the first time in my life, the time before me was an open canvas. My future was my own. In the back of my mind, maybe some part of me had hoped that the more blank I made my life, the more Adley would try to fill it.

And just like that, my spirits sank, pulling me slack and boneless, until I slumped in the seat.

It was pathetic. I was pathetic.

She’d turned me into a love-sick puppy. I’d been an uncertain mess from the moment Cam had waltzed back into the picture. All it had taken was one look at her face for me to realize that he’d never been gone, not really. Cam owned a piece of her. How could I compete with that?

They’d made me into a hypocrite. My eyes followed them any chance I got, sharper than any paparazzi’s camera lens. It didn’t matter how much I watched them, though. I had no way to decipher their sly looks or tentative touches. Jealousy tinted everything I saw into something meaningful.

I was beyond pathetic, and I was done with thinking about it. All the excitement, jealousy, and uncertainty, was left in the limo.

I had work to do.

Walking past the security guard, he barely took note of my nod, distracted by the sandy-haired bloke arguing with him.

“Look, right here, this is my official California driver’s license. See, Thomas Adair. I’m not some reporter. I just want to see my sister.”

I couldn’t escape her! I did everything I could to block them out besides clapping my hands over my ears and humming, but the slender man’s words slipped through. His claim of being Thomas and not Cade Adair, who was Adley’s ink and paper brother, gave validity to his statement.

Against my better judgment, my feet slowed down.

I didn’t know a lot about her family. Obviously, sharing wasn’t her favorite activity. What I did know was that she’d left them when she found out she was pregnant. I couldn’t imagine she’d bail on them without probable cause. There had to be a reason.

They’d never sought her out before, to my knowledge. Why had Thomas suddenly reappeared after so much time?

I didn’t stop to intervene. I was curious, but I wasn’t stupid. Asking Adley how her day was could be a dangerous move, I wasn’t about to go sticking my nose in her family issues. Nuh uh. No, thank you. Not gonna happen.

“Please, if you don’t believe me just go and tell her I’m here. She’ll tell you who I am,” he pleaded in a raspy, beaten down voice. There was something familiar in his voice; something that I could have only ever learned from hearing Adley speak; something that tugged at the weakest part of me.

Damn it, Thomas. I really hope you don’t get me castrated.

***

I found Adley tucked behind Alfred, taking advantage of his cloaking shadow, while Madeline signed autographs and posed for photos with a passing tour group. Her arms were crossed and chin tucked downwards in her best attempt to go unnoticed. I might’ve teased her, accusing her of having a phobia of fanny packs, but unlike most people, she had a real reason to fear a crowd.

I had seen her upset and I had seen her angry – furious even – but nothing had frightened me like the look on her face after the paparazzi had nearly pulled her apart. With skinned knees and bleeding, raw hands, the navy in her eyes had sparked with something wild and skittish. It reminded me of my mother’s horses; they got that same look just before they panicked and did something stupid, like bolt.

Her fear fed rage into my bloodstream. I’d wanted to bash their heads in with their own bloody cameras. I wanted to taunt and torture them until they felt helpless and terrified just like she had. Alfred had been the one to stop me, and his daily presence with her, ready to act as unofficial protector if needed, was a huge comfort.

She would’ve never let me protect her. Even showing concern was out of the question. My ridiculous little sheila.

Forgetting Madeline and Adley weren’t the only commodities on set, I barged into the fray. Squeals and exclamations exploded like I’d choreographed the entrance, and instinctively, I looked towards Adley, hoping to catch her having the same thought. I missed the annoyed little crease that sprouted between her brows when I did something she found particularly insufferable.

She wasn’t even looking at me though. Alfred had moved closer to Madeline, protectively, after my disturbance, and Adley shuffled after him like a child hiding behind her father’s legs. The vulnerability of it drew a scowl across my face as I finally got her attention and pulled her away before she could protest.

“What are you doing, you brute?” She jerked her arm, trying to free it, but her feet never fought my lead. It was a promising start.

I didn’t answer, not yet. I had to be careful – delicate – as to how the situation played out. First, we needed to lose the audience, and after that…well, I hadn’t gotten that far yet. I went to the most abandoned place I could think of. I liked to think of the area as a neighborhood, but really it was just a quiet row where the top billed cast could retreat to their trailers.

Adley made a small noise that sounded suspiciously like a giggle, and I wheeled around confused and – frankly – a bit scared. Her knowing grin made me even more nervous.

“A few days without getting laid and you’re reduced to a caveman, Mr. Davies,” she said with a sassy quirk, lifting the right side of her mouth and a hand on her hip.

I couldn’t remember a thing about Thomas as she strutted closer to me with a saucy little sway of her hips. I groaned at the sight. Did she have any idea the power she held over me? Could I even truly fathom it, or would it only sink in after she’d left me at the bottom of a pit made of my own despair?

Her hands and eyes caressed my chest and upper arms like I was a piece of meat as she backed us up against the aluminum siding of one of the other actor’s trailers. I’d never felt more objectified, and that was saying something, coming from me. All I wanted was for her to look me in the eyes – to want me – instead of the escape my body offered her. It felt wrong – dirty almost – and yet, when she leaned into me, I was helpless.

I wanted her…All of her, but I’d take any piece of her I could get.

I yanked her tight against me and found her silky lips with my own, lifting her with the leverage of my arms around her petite waist. She was the smallest force of nature I’d ever encountered.

“Wait.” I pulled back with a savage breath, trying to shake off my sudden intoxication. I was drunk off her. There was something I was missing though, something important. As soon as the memory fluttered through my mind, I blurted it out, scared to lose it again, “Your brother, Thomas, he’s here.”

Really smooth. I cringed as my whole ‘careful’ and ‘delicate’ plan bombed epically.

She stiffened and broke all physical contact between us.

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s a guy here to see you claiming to be Thomas Adair…Tallish, thin guy with hair a shade or two lighter than yours,” I explained gently, trying not to spook her. She’d recaptured the untamed horse look.

“What does he want?”

“I can’t imagine what he’d want, other than to see you.”

She seemed lost, utterly confused, and then her stance shifted and, like rising steam, her posture soon followed. In her mouth first, and then slowly leaking up to her eyes.

I knew what it meant. I read it as clearly off her as if she’d she said it aloud. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear though.

“I’ll go with you,” I offered in denial of the resolution I saw so clearly.

“No,” was all she said.

“Look, I’m not going to pretend to know or understand your relationship with your family, but if he’s trying to see you, then that’s a good thing, right? It can’t hurt to see what he wants…He’s your family.”

Her eyes were already long gone from me. “No.”

All I could do was watch her walk away.

It felt like so much more than that one moment though. Every joint and muscle screamed at me to do something – anything – to keep her with me. I didn’t move though, frozen and torn between what she wanted and what I thought she needed.

I was sure I could find a way to make her stop. Up until that point, I had always found a way. But something occurred to me, as I stood there for the first time.

Just because I’d found a way to make her come back time after time, didn’t mean I’d ever be enough to make her quit walking away in the first place.

As her back disappeared out of sight, it felt so much more like a premonition of what was to come than reality.