Someone Else's Fairytale (12 page)

The sky was lighter ahead – east was over the
Sandia
Mountains
and the sun hadn't yet peeked over, but it was close. The tram swayed slightly in the breeze as it passed the other tram car going the opposite direction. All the staff waved at it, even though it was empty.

“This the longest tram in the world?” Jason asked. His voice was soft.

“Mmm-hmm, think it still is,” I said.

“Been ages since I've been on it.”

“Me too.”

The tram finished its journey and slowed to slide into its dock at the top. I put on my jacket and Jason put on his sweatshirt before the crew pushed the door open. Sure enough, the air that whooshed in was cold and crisp, like winter.

“Hey,” said a guy in a restaurant uniform. “Give us twenty and we'll serve breakfast, okay?”

“That's great.” Jason clapped him on the arm.

The guy smiled like he'd been bestowed a great benediction.

“Oh, breakfast?” I said.

“Yeah. Sorry, I should have spelled that out. Did you already eat?”

I shook my head. I'd had my coffee and that usually kept my stomach quiet.

“Just fruit and pancakes and stuff,” said Jason. “That good by you?”

“Sure.” But I knew I didn't sound sure. Everyone else had let us precede them out from the swaying tram onto the firm decking. Now they all trooped past us to get to their jobs.

Jason and I were definitely the only non-staff, which meant we were basically alone, at the top of
Sandia Peak
. The sun rose behind us, painting the sky a deep watermelon pink. He was looking at me, his expression uncertain.

“Um... okay,” I said, “really stupid question-”

“Is this a date or isn't it?”

“I thought you were dating Corey Cassidy.”

“Oh.” He shook his head. “No, the hot tub scene was purely professional. Except... I need to not say stuff like that to normal people.”

But I laughed, which seemed to make him relax.

“You got a boyfriend?” he said.

“Not exactly. I'm sorry. I'm inept at this kind of stuff.” This was not the conversation to have while the sun rose and birds sang and the city beneath us woke up, the streetlights all winking out in a wave that ran from one end of town to the other.

“You? I'm not even remotely ept. Look, I'm sorry if this is awkward. Really. It doesn't have to be anything.”

“We're friends?”

“Yeah. Friends is fine.”

I nodded. “Sorry to make-”

“No, no. Way less awkward when things are clear, you know? I'm freezing, though. You okay with going inside?” He nodded in the direction of the restaurant.

I couldn't help but smirk at him. “But you're not even in a t-shirt or eating ice.”

He laughed. “Wearing a coat between scenes just makes me colder when I have to take it off. I don't suppose I can get you to believe I suffer for my art sometimes?”

“Yeah, I saw the whole red carpet thing. I believe it.”

He smiled, his blue eyes sparkling.

We headed inside the wood frame building which also had windows all the way around. It smelled like pine and mountain air even inside. A waiter showed us to a seat by the windows on the east side, where we could watch the sun come up. The cloudy sky cut the glare nicely.

I tried to think of something normal and conversational to say. “So what's your next project?” The table we sat at had a plain white tablecloth and nothing else on it.

“I play a criminal. A murderer. You know, good fun family entertainment.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “That shoot starts up in
Vancouver
in January. Until then, I don't really have anything. Just meetings and interviews and stuff.”

“What's the film?”

“No title yet. The working title is
Killer
, which they won't keep. I hope they don't keep it. Research has been interesting.”

“Dare I ask?”

He smiled. “Just been talking to cops, profilers.”

“That useful at all?”

“Some. You sound doubtful.”

“Well, movie villains and real criminals don't have much in common. Movies tend to make them look like heroes.” This was one of Matthew's pet peeves, which he ranted about often.

“Yeah, you sound like the cops I've talked to.” He gave me an appraising look. “They say stuff like, 'You'd never want to watch a real criminal for two hours. You'd want to lock them up after fifteen minutes, then run.'”

Yep, I thought. “So you don't talk to criminals?”

“I don't know any.”

“Well, that's good, right?”

“Yeah.” More of those blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Listen,” he said, “you sure you don't want to come to my sister's new restaurant? Tia Anita's?”

“Oh...”

“You heard of it?”

“It's my favorite restaurant.”

“Last chance to eat with the old chef in charge. You sure?”

“It sounds really nice, but no thanks.”

“It's a non-date, so we're clear. And I'll make sure my family knows.”

“I'm sure your family is very nice,” I said. “But meeting them, given my family situation, would be weird.”

“Well, here's the thing, my parents already know who you are. And they're tactful.”

They knew who I was?

“Aaaand, I love my sister and the way she cooks, but she's very individual about it. Very avant garde. The food'll still be good there, but it will definitely be different. Just come.”

“When does she take over?”

“Monday. Tonight's the last night with the old chef. Oh, and the restaurant's fully booked. Solid reservations from opening to close.”

“Okay, okay, no need to torment,” I chided him.

“Am I getting to you? I am, aren't I?”

“You're being cruel.”

“I am so terribly
not
sorry. Come with us. My family's cool. You know, Steve's a dork, but-”

“He's nice.”

“Well, if you like him, you'll love everyone else.”

“Your parents know Dr. Winters
and
know about me?”

“Yeah, I don't know how they found out, but when I said your name to them and that you were kind of related to Chris and Beth, they looked at each other and my dad said, 'We know the rest of the story there.'”

That was strange. Mom hadn't had much contact with Dr. Winters's social circle.

Jason fixed those blue eyes firmly on mine. “They don't care okay? You're an innocent third party, and even if you weren't, it's not like they'd say anything.”

I tapped my finger against the tablecloth. “What do they know about Chris and his situation?”

“I don't know. What is his situation?”

“He got into drugs and is now in prison.”

“Oh, really?” He looked surprised, but not mortified. “No, they never said anything about that. I think they lost touch with the Winters when I moved to LA. They stopped going to Dr. Winters for their teeth not long after that, and Jen and Steve didn't hang out with Chris or Beth at all. Steve's wife and Beth went to different high schools. Look, am I doing a thorough enough job here? No one's going to care that your father's a cheater and your brother's a junkie. No one. It doesn't matter. Come eat with us.”

I put my elbows on the table and my head in my hands.

“Chlo-e,” he sing-songed. “You know you want to. It's Tia Anita's.”

“You've already been so nice to me-”

“What? So? There a limit on nice between friends? C'mon, it's all cool.”

“But you're always doing the nice stuff-”

“Well, okay, look. That's unfortunately how it goes in my life. As much as I'd love to go and hang out with whomever, whenever and do whatever, I can't. I've got to plan ahead and sometimes I need security guards and sometimes it'll have to be
six o'clock
in the morning. You did something very nice for me, getting up this early. Ever look at it that way?”

That, I had to admit, was smooth. Smoother than I could ever pull off.

“So, you coming tonight?” he asked.

“I...”

“You hesitated! Just say yes.”

“Well...”

“Okay?”

I shut my eyes. “Okay,” I said.

“All right! You can help defend me against Kyra.”

“Who's that?”

“My sister's stepdaughter. She hates me.”

“How old?”

“Sixteen.”

“There's a sixteen year old girl in
America
who hates you? Does the media know?”

He thought that was hilarious. “Well,” he said, after he caught his breath. “She knows me. Too well.”

Our breakfast arrived then. Plates of whole wheat pancakes and fruit. I was pretty sure this wasn't on the restaurant's menu. I tried not to feel too uncomfortable as I ate what Jason piled onto my plate. First class just wasn't my style.

Jason's phone went off as we were headed for the tram. The first flight of tourists would depart soon, and we wanted to be in the tram car going the other way. “Uh-huh,” said Jason. “Oh.” He hung up and frowned at me. “Sooo, I guess there's a crowd at the bottom. Someone must've called someone and word's out that I'm here.”

He'd taken the time to go sign autographs for all of the staff on the peak, and although he was gracious about it, there was a strain around his eyes that let me know his heart wasn't really in it. On one hand, it seemed only fair that he take the time, because these people had all done us a big favor, but on the other hand, I couldn't imagine having to spend my life asking for such favors and signing my name on pictures of myself in gratitude. It was so bizarre.

As we stepped onto the tram, he tapped his phone and put it to his ear. “Yeah,” he said. “Yep. Really sorry. Thanks.” He hung up. “I've got some security guys on their way,” he said. “They can escort you to your car too.”

“Or I could sneak off and pretend not to know you.”

I meant that as a joke, but he nodded. “Yes, if you want to make absolutely sure no one follows you.”

I thought about my car with two flat tires. “Do you mind?”

“I don't. I'm just sorry my life is like it is.”

If we'd known each other better, I might have put my hand on his arm. As it was, I tried to nod sympathetically.

Jason stared out the front of the tram the entire way down. The city grew larger and larger in front of us, its scum of brown smog dissipated as we descended down into it. He seemed so lonely and isolated, just him silhouetted against the cityscape on the desert plain.

When I got home, Lori was just getting up. “Where have you been?” she asked. She looked me up and down, at me fully dressed with makeup on, my hair windblown.