Fade In (12 page)

Winnie enters, giving me a knowing expression that says, ‘I told you so.’ “Those are sweet. Are they an apology?”

“Nope.” I quickly put the card down and pretend as if the flowers aren't even there. “Is everything ready for the morning hoedown? I want to go down to the set and make sure everything is shaping up for air tonight.”

“Yeah, everyone is here. Tatum. Who are the flowers from? They're not from Kurt, are they?” Now she's backpedaling. She is so fun to play with.

I maintain my nonchalance about the gift. “Nope. Are the digitals edited yet? We should watch them this morning, too.”

“Tatum! Where did the Goddamned flowers come from?” It's driving her crazy. I can almost see her curly hair grow tighter as her blood pressure rises.

“Ben,” I say, as if it's totally normal for a boss to receive flowers from an employee after his first day on the job.

“What does the card say?”

“Oh, it's delicious. Probably the most mouthwatering thing I've ever read.”

“I knew it! He wants to bend you over! I have to see this guy. You have to fire him. When can I meet him? Neil says he's a God. Ahhh! Gimmie. Let me read it. They're so pretty.”

I hand her the card and just wait for it.

“What is this? His MooMoo's chili recipe? What in the fuck!? How did he know you liked...?” Then the light bulb goes off. “You called him. What did you say?”

I tell her to shut the door. Then I make her swear on her Prada pumps. You see, we need something sacred. I tell her what happened last night and about what could have but didn't.

On my way downstairs at about ten before eleven, I swing into the Devons’ lair to see what they're up to. They are debating the pros and cons of pubic hair. Thoroughly, I might add. They have a list on their whiteboard, and big Devon has his glasses on. It's all business in here.

“How's it going in here, fellas?”

“She can tell us,” big Devon gestures at me. “Do women like it when a man has hardwood flooring or a manly shag quaff? I myself like the way my rig looks sans merkin.”

“Merkin? What's a merkin?” I ask. Do I even want to know?

“You know, it's a dick wig. It's peni-flage. I guess it could also be vagi-flage, depending on gender. But in this case, it's a dick wig,” explains big Devon.

I love it here.

“Well, there are pros and cons to both varieties I suppose. A well-groomed rig, as you call it, says ‘I'm aware of how this operates and I pay attention to detail.’ However, a wild downstairs dick-do says ‘I'm up for just about anything,’” I deadpan. “See you after lunch. Get your shit ready for tonight. I'll see you on set at one.”

Like I knew he would be, Ben is waiting for me in the lobby. He looks so naturally attractive. His jeans fit him in all the right places, and his gray v-neck shirt rests just above his belt. Is this a swoon? Am I thirteen again?

He seems to be much more awake than he did just a few hours earlier, and I'll admit that now I'm sort of dragging.

“Do you like Greek food?” is the first thing he says.

“Yes. And it's close. Greek sounds perfect.”

He leads me out of the building, and I can feel him watching me closely.

“Do you go to lunch alone much?”

“No, usually I go with Winnie or Neil. You've met him. Or we have something brought up. Why?” I ask as we walk out into the beautiful day. Horns honk and people wait for lights to change. Only, ‘red light, green light’ isn't as much fun when you're older and you’re standing with total strangers and not your friends.

“Just curious. How's the show coming along this week? I watched a bit of it last week. Very funny.”

“It’s going really well, truthfully. This week was sort of a cakewalk. We had most of the segments lined up on Monday and we’ve just been polishing work really. You can come watch it at the set any time you'd like.”

Our show tapes live in front of a studio audience. Well, it is time-delayed for obvious reasons, but it’s as live as live is these days. Thanks to the boob plop heard around the world a few years back.

“I'd come to the show. Sounds like fun.”

He walks so close that our arms brush against each other every few feet and I like it. I enjoy it so much that I manage to 'accidentally' do it on purpose when his arm misses mine too many times in a row.

“So have you lived in New York long? Does your family live here?” I curiously ask. I want to know more about this man. My life is sort of an open book to him and I don't even know very much about him.

“No. I stayed in D.C. after school for a while. I just recently came back. I have a few relatives who live in the city, but most of my family lives up the island in Amagansett.”

“I've been through there a few times on our way to the Hamptons. That town is beautiful. It's like a postcard. Did you grow up there?”

He leans his shoulder into mine as we round the corner and walk up to the door of the restaurant. The smell of cooked lamb is strong, and it makes my stomach growl.

“Yes. I'm a small-town boy. How about you?”

“We've always lived in a borough somewhere around here. Yonkers when we were young. My brother, Cooper, and I are Shore kids.”

We stand in line at the counter and look at the menu board, waiting to place our lunch orders. Then Ben moves to put his arm around my shoulder. It surprises me, and I look up into his face to see what the sudden contact is about. He nods over my right side and says, “Excuse us.”

I turn my head completely so that I can see what's just out of my peripheral. A man stands there, brooding with his hands full and looking quite put out that I am in his way. “Sorry. Excuse me,” I whisper, and I step closer to Ben.

The guy huffs, “I guess so.” Then he rushes past.

I didn't even notice he was there. It's just another reminder that my world is getting smaller around me.

“Don't worry about that, Tatum. What looks good?” Ben brushes it off like it's no big deal that I plainly didn't see the guy standing right next to me and somehow keeps me moving forward.

After we order and receive our food, we grab a small table on the sidewalk and eat in a somewhat comfortable silence. That is, until he clears his throat and begins talking.

“I was fun talking to you last night.”

“Yeah, it was? You flirted with me.” I smile, teasing him to see what will happen. I'm the girl who pokes wild animals with sticks.

“No, I don't remember that. I think you were flirting with me.” His eyes lift up from where he's just about to take a bite of his gyro. “Do we need to talk about that?”

“I don't think so. Especially not while you’re working. That would be inappropriate.” I can't help it. I feel my face warming.

He smiles. “I'm on my lunch break.”

“A little flirting is only natural, Ben. Last night's phone call between two single... Single?” I question, and he responds silently with a long blink and bowing head. “Single adults was just that. The gentleman was clearly just too attracted to the woman to help himself. Happens all the time.”

“Happens all the time.” His head bobs and he puckers his mouth. His eyes look up in the air as if to confirm that he feels the same way. “All right. I'll buy that. Are you always so honest?”

I think about it. It seems like such an easy question to answer, being that I just totally owned up to my almost wanton behavior from last night. But I don't know what to say. Saying yes feels like a lie.

“I don't know. I suppose it depends on who is asking.”

“So that happens all the time, huh? You casually call men you've just met in the middle of the night.”

“Not just men.” He chokes a laugh through a mouthful. “I'm an equal opportunity conversationalist.” I laugh, too. This is fun. This is easy. He's so fine.

“Clearly. I'm sure your phone rings off the hook.” His features are so much more youthful today.

I all-out giggle now as my cell goes off. We look at each other and both of our mouths fall open in surprise. Perfect timing. I couldn't have scripted it better if I tried.

I reach into the pocket of my trousers and see that it's Winnie calling.

“Excuse me,” I say to Ben as I answer. “Hello?”

“Did you fire him?” I hear the excitement in her voice.

I turn and lower my voice a little so that it isn't obvious that we are talking about Ben as he sits there looking at me. “Of course not. I'll be back in a while. Do you need something?”

“No, Cooper brought me lunch. But we think you should bring your new personal assistant up when you get back so we can meet him.”

Shit.
“I'm sure that he is busy. We can arrange that some other time. We have the show to get ready and this afternoon is going to be busy, Gwendolyn.” That's right. She got full first-named.

“It will only take a second, and we are part of your personal life, and you said he was going to be helping you with your maid of honor duties. We'd like to meet him. Ask him.” She puts me on the spot.

I cover up the speaking end of the phone and ask in a not-too-enthusiastic way, “Ben, would you like to come up and meet Cooper, my brother, and my asshole best friend Winnie?”

“I would. We're done here. We can leave now so we don't push back your afternoon.” He puts his thumb in his mouth, licking off the dressing he found there. I almost lose my train of thought.

“We'll be right there.” I hang up on her.

Ben picks up our trash, darts around to the trash can, and returns to my side for our walk back. “You don't want me to meet them or something?”

“No. It isn't that. It's just that it is only your second day. It seems rushed. Don't you think?” I don't know what my problem is. I almost feel like Ben is mine, and if he's exposed to them, he'll be one of them. I'm batshit crazy.

“I don't know. Rushed seems to be working all right for us. Considering how yesterday almost escalated.” Damn, he's cheeky today.

“Fine. Just none of that shit when we get up there. It's my office and my family. Put your damn game face on and wipe off that shit-eating grin.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

As instructed, Ben exudes nothing except polite professionalism. I introduce him to Cynthia as my new personal assistant and walk him past the pit, pointing out the faces that are visible on the walk to Winnie's office.

I knock once and open the door. No doubt awaiting our arrival are Neil, Winnie, Tilly, Wes, and Cooper.

“Jesus.” I stop and get a load of them all hanging out as if it were just a normal day at the office in Winnie's ten-foot-by-ten-foot space. Her office is the smallest one on our floor. She likes it because it’s easier to keep clean.

My head falls to the side of its own accord and my eyes roll as we're met with five wide smiles.

Cooper stands up to walk over to Ben and moves to shake his hand. “Ben, is it? I'm Tater's big brother, Cooper Elliot. It's nice to meet you. I hope she's treating you well.”

Ben's face lights up at the mention of my brother's nickname for me. I meet his gaze and scowl.

“She is. It's nice to meet you, too. Tater has said so many nice things about you. I'm sure she's taking them all back right now.” Everyone laughs. Strangely, this pleases me.

They take turns introducing themselves—all but Neil, whom Ben says is nice to see again. Tilly, Wes, and Neil leave us four in the room and Winnie goes on to say, “Ben, if you're not busy later, we could all go get drinks after wrapping up the show? I'd be fun if you'd join us. We are interested in getting to know you since you'll be working so closely with our girl here.”

I butt in. “Oh, I don't know, guys. I was thinking about skipping that tonight. I'm a little tired.” Immediately, I want to retract that last statement. Winnie and Ben lock eyes and the bitch winks at him, making it obvious that she knows more.

Cooper chimes in. “Oh, just one drink. You'll be home by ten thirty. Suck it up.” He just wants an opportunity to chat Ben up more at the bar.

“Well, if Tatum feels up for it after the show, I'd be happy to join you guys for a drink.”

It's settled. We're all having drinks after the show.

Winnie happily mentions, “Great. You can either meet us at Matty's down the street after the show wraps at about nine or come by the twenty-eighth floor around seven and watch the taping.”

I glance at Ben to see what he decides. I don't expect him to look at me for acceptance, but he does.

“I guess I will see you at seven?” It is more of a question in my general direction, but Winnie and Cooper take it as a confirmation. I just stand there like a freaking dummy.

“Yeah, sounds good. First round is on me,” I say, aware that I've been railroaded by the three of them.

By six, we are going through the dress rehearsal and everything is on. The punch lines hit their marks, the cast—including Wes and Winnie—is in great spirits, and there is a cool buzz in the atmosphere. It's almost my favorite time—showtime.

I'm perched up on my chair, talking to the guys in the booth with my headset, when I see Ben walk in around a quarter before seven. He's changed his clothes. He looks divine in jeans and a black fitted t-shirt, but he's added a tan jacket since it's a still a bit brisk at night even for almost May.

I don't realize how long I'm staring when Wes saddles up next to me in his chair. He only has two scenes tonight—one in the opener and one towards the end of our hour.

“So what's the deal? He's your personal assistant and you're looking at him like he's dinner. You're going to get into trouble.” Wes's tone is warning, but he's just teasing me like usual.

I snap out of it and turn directly to face him. “Whatever. He's only been my PA for two days.” I admit, “He's just so fucking handsome. I'll get use to it in a month or so. Or a year.”

I've known Wes for years. We even fooled around a few times way back when, but nothing ever came of it and we are much better suited as friends. There isn't any reason to hide my blatant attraction, especially when I've been caught staring so hard.

“Mmm-hmmm. You gonna fuck him?” He's a straight shooter, just like me. He stands in front of me pretending like he's leafing through his script one more time.

“Probably not. That isn't really conducive to an employer-employee relationship. But I can still fantasize about it. You know, now that you've mentioned it, I've always had a fantasy where you and I and some other guy have hot sex in my office. What are you doing later?” I make kissy lips at him.