Damaged In-Law (8 page)

“OK. Here goes,” he says, fixing me with that x-ray gaze of
his. “You
’
ve heard some talk about this movie Avery and I
were set to be working on together, right?”

“Right,” I reply. “Your blue-haired admirers were talking
about it at my parents
’
house last night. Gritty police
drama. Star vehicle. Avery had a part, too.”

“Those are the broad strokes, yeah,” Jack nods. “But let me
fill you in on some of the finer details, alright?”

“I
’
m all ears,” I reply, sipping my
vodka tonic.

“This film. It isn
’
t just a lucky break
for me,” Jack goes on, palming his lowball glass of amber liquor, “It
’
s something I
’
ve been working to bring
about for years now. It
’
s based on this novel I read—and
no jokes about my being able to read book without pictures, please.”

“I said nothing,” I say, grinning into my drink.

“Anyway. The second I finished this book,
City in Red
,
I knew that it would make a great film. Not only that, I knew that if it was
made into a movie, I wanted in as the lead. It
’
s this ‘50s
era, gritty noir story. Very in right now. Anyway, something about the
protagonists
’
s story just struck a chord with me. I
tracked down the people who owned the movie rights and told them I wanted in.
Only problem was, it was a tiny little production company who
’
d
ended up with the rights to make
City in Red
into a film, and this is a
story that needs a big budget if it
’
s going to be any
good. So, I started working my ass off to attract some deeper pockets. I may not
be a star yet, but I
’
ve been working in Hollywood long
enough to have some decent connections. And I
’
m not sure
if you
’
ve noticed, but I
’
m pretty
excellent at getting people to do what I want.”

“And so modest, too,” I tease him.

“Just speaking the truth. I worked for years, waiting for
the right studio to bite. And at last, after I
’
d landed
some decent supporting roles and showed my acting chops a bit, the big dogs
finally perked up their ears.”

“And this pack of big dogs was...who?” I ask.

“
Apollo Pictures,
”
Jack
grins proudly,
“The biggest of the big. And headed up by the baddest
bitch in Hollywood, too—
Miriam Blake.
”

That name certainly rings a bell. I
’
m
not exactly up to date on the who
’
s-who of Hollywood, but
even I
’
ve read an article or two about Miriam Blake, the
CEO of Apollo Pictures. By all accounts, she is indeed a woman to be reckoned
with. Started out as a script assistant back in the golden days of Hollywood,
and has been working her way up the ladder ever since. She
’
s
an infamously ruthless ball-buster. I read that she once turned down a feature
headlined by Al Pacino because, and I quote, “That overrated sad-sack wouldn
’
t get a respectable haircut.” The only thing fiercer than her
temper is her talent for making excellent movies.

That
’
s
Miriam Blake for you.

“I had no idea this movie was such a big deal,” I say to
Jack, “Or that you managed to bring the Queen B herself onboard. That
’
s huge news, Jack. Why haven
’
t I seen more
publicity for this thing?”

“Honestly?” Jack replies, leaning toward me and lowering his
voice, “It
’
s because we
’
re not
exactly that far into filming. We spent all this time shaping the publicity
campaign first, and we
’
re only just now getting down to
the real work of it.

“Oh...” I reply, surprised, “From what I
’
ve
been hearing, I thought it was mostly in the can already.”

“
Not so much,
” Jack says, his eyes
glinting with earnest enthusiasm. I can sense that we
’
re
about to get to the heart of the matter, here.

“So...Hold on,” I say, backtracking a bit, “Where did Avery
come into all of this? Apollo Pictures is a serious movie studio. Miriam Blake
apparently eats the likes of Al Pacino for breakfast. And Avery...Well...”

“Avery wasn
’
t much of an actress. I
know,” Jack finishes bluntly.

“Whoa,” I exclaim, “Maybe go a little easier there, Jack.
She
just
died, for god
’
s sake—”

“I
’
m well aware of that,” he shoots
back sternly, “But you know as well as I do, Cal, that Avery wasn
’
t
all that interested in being a serious actress. She just thought it was fun.
And a good excuse to come hang out in LA with me. She had the whole commercial
look down pat, but she wasn
’
t all that talented
otherwise.”

I feel my face flushing with protective indignation. Even I
have to admit, Avery wasn
’
t all that great of an actress.
But it still feels wrong to be talking about her like this, so soon after...

“Shit. I
’
m sorry,” Jack says gruffly,
reaching for my hand on the bar. I let him take it, amazed at the electric
shock that shoots up my arm the second he does. “I
’
m doing
that whole ‘insensitive asshole
’
thing again, right?”

“That you are,” I say quietly, trying to keep my head on
straight as Jack rubs his thumb against my hand.

“I
’
m just trying to be honest,” he
insists. “Avery knew all this stuff as well as anyone. It was never her dream
to be an artist, but she wasn
’
t about to say no to fame
and fortune. I mean, who would?”

“Fine. But if everything you
’
re saying
is true, what was she doing working on this movie?” I shoot back, finally
working up the strength to lift my hand away.

A pained expression crossed Jack
’
s
gorgeous features. “To tell you the truth...it was all my doing. We needed
someone to play the love interest of the lead. Just a small role, you know?
Nothing too heavy. And Avery had been so down on herself, just sort of
drifting...I wanted to give her something to be excited about. So, I talked the
people at Apollo Pictures into giving her the part.”

“But, this project clearly means the world to you,” I reply,
“Why would you risk its quality by casting someone you didn
’
t
think could act?”

“The film
does
mean a lot to me,” Jack says softly,
“But not as much as Avery did.”

A hard knot rises in my throat as Jack glances away, his
face hard with restrained emotion. I
’
ve got to go easier
on him, here. I have to remember that he
’
s lost someone,
too. Avery wasn
’
t just my sister, she was also Jack
’
s...what? Costar? Friend? Future wife? It
’
s still a little hazy.

“It was good of you, bringing her on board,” I whisper. “Did
it...Was she happy to be working on the film?”

“She had a blast with the initial publicity stuff,”
Jack smiles sadly,
“It was just a bunch of photo shoots, with us
actors dressed up in these pulpy 1950
’
s costumes. Very
classy. Very Old Hollywood. She was in her element.”

The idea of Avery living it up, wrapped in feather boas and
sequins while mugging for the cameras, brings a smile to my face.

“And the actual filming?” I go on, “How did she handle
that?”

Jack pauses to take a long swig of his drink. He
’
s bracing himself for something, I can tell. But what?

“We, uh, never got to find out how she
’
d
handle being on set,” he says slowly, his jaw pulsing with tension. “By the
time we really got to shooting, she
’
d already started
spinning out of control. I thought that bringing her onto the film would help
her focus, give her something to look forward to in life. But she was in so
deep with the drugs and booze by then—not to mention the shitty people she was
spending time with—that nothing was going to pull her back up. She was called
in for a few days on set, but she never showed up. Not once.”

“So...She never actually shot any of her scenes? Is that
what you
’
re telling me?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Jack replies, shaking his head, “That
’
s
exactly what I
’
m telling you, Cal.”

I shove a hand through my dirty blonde locks, letting out a
deep breath as I try to wrap my head around Jack
’
s predicament.
“Shit,” I mutter, “After all the time and effort
you put into getting the film on track, this must be a huge setback. I
’
m so sorry you have to deal with this, on top of everything
else. I mean, my god, your fiancée just passed away...”

Jack shoots me an impatient look. Did I say something
wrong? 

“Wait a minute...” I go on, narrowing my eyes at him, “Your
engagement to Avery...That wasn
’
t just part of some
publicity stunt for the film, was it?”

His eyes go wide with indignation. “Of course not,” he
snaps.

“Then what was with the look?” I press him, “Why do you
change the subject every time I mention the fact that you two were engaged?”

“Because,” he begins, gritting his teeth, “Every time
someone says the word ‘fiancee
’
, it
’
s
another remind of how badly I failed her.”

“What are you talking about, Jack?” I ask, exasperated. More
than a few heads have swiveled our way as the conversation
’
s
heated up. That
’
s just what we need—some intrepid
entertainment blogger speculating about a feud between Jackson Cole and Avery
Benson
’
s normal-person twin sister.

Jack knocks back the rest of his whiskey, struggling to find
the right words. “It was all...part of the same plan,” he finally growls,
looking straight ahead. “The film role, the engagement, a million other little
things...It was all supposed to come together as a new chance for her. A clean
slate. It was my last stand against all the things that were threatening to
ruin her. And I lost, Callie. I did everything I could to save Avery, and
nothing...”

I feel my heart straining at the fault lines as Jack trails
off, his voice ragged with grief. I nod to the bartender for another round and
rest my hand on Jack
’
s broad back. His tightly-wound
muscles ripple beneath the fine fabric of his jacket, and his smooth brow is
furrowed with frustrated despair. 

“You were going to marry Avery...to try and keep her safe?”
I ask softly.

A single bark of laughter rises up from his throat. “That I
was,” he confirms. “Brilliant idea, I know. But hey, they say you
’
re
supposed to marry your best friend, right? Avery was my best friend, we were
inseparable. There was no way either of us was going to settle down with any of
the losers we were in the habit of dating, so...it seemed like a good bet, I
guess.”

I stare at Jack, my slender hand running along the space
between his shoulder blades. A thousand warring emotions rampage inside of me.
The grief I
’
m already feeling in the wake of Avery
’
s death is doubled by the pain it
’
s
causing Jack. I
’
m so moved by everything he did to try and
help my sister, and so wracked with guilt that I wasn
’
t
there to help either of them. I regret more than ever the estrangement that
forced Avery and I out of each other
’
s lives.

But buried beneath all those conflicting feelings, a tiny
spark of hope is flickering to life. If Avery and Jackson
’
s
engagement was really just a gesture of friendship, rather than romantic love...If
she was like a sister to him, instead of a lover...Then could be there be
something
more
behind this reunion of ours than two old friends grabbing
a drink? Could I actually be getting another chance at having Jackson Cole in
my life, the way I
’
ve always wanted him to be?

There
’
s only one way to find out.

“Jack,” I say softly, moving my body just a hair closer to
his, “I
’
m so sorry you
’
ve been going
through this alone. I just want you to know...I
’
m here for
you. Whatever you need, whatever I can do to help, just say the word. OK?”

He looks up at me, and I feel the intensity of his gaze
sizzle along every nerve ending in my body. We
’
re sitting
mere inches apart at this elegant bar, both dressed to kill, alone for the
first time in our adult lives. In the midst of so much pain and heartache, I
feel my heart fill up with hope. Have we made it through the storm, at last?
After so many years, have we finally come to a place where we can take a crack
at being together?

“Thanks Cal,” he finally says, his voice thick with emotion,
“It hasn
’
t been easy these past few years, you know? I was
the only person Avery knew when she moved out to LA. It
’
s
insane, I know, but I felt this huge responsibility to keep her safe.”

“You were always looking out for her,” I nod, “For both of
us.”

“Trying to, anyway,” Jack says, shaking his head. “But you
know how Avery is. Was. No one could stop her from doing what she wanted, when
she wanted.”