From Morocco to Paris (29 page)

“I’m here.”

“You almost weren’t,” Ian said. “Are you taking care of yourself?”

“I’m trying.”

Zane looked back at the door. The rain still fell in dreary streams, running off the edge of the awning. “Hey.” He looked back at Cristiano, teeth chattering. “Why don’t you come inside? Have a drink with us, get warmed up.”

Cristiano looked at the door and shook his head. “No, I don’t feel very social. I’m staying at a hotel.” He motioned to a car sitting against the curb nearby. “I’ll call you in the morning. Maybe we can go somewhere and talk.”

“Are you sure?” Zane asked.

“I don’t think I’m ready to be around a lot of people just yet.”

Zane nodded and looked at Ian. His brother looked worried.

“So.” Cristiano flicked his gaze from one to the other. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Zane thought maybe he should leave with him, maybe go to the all-night diner up the street and have some coffee, sober up. But Cristiano turned and started toward his car.

“Wait!” Ian whipped off his coat and rushed after him. “It’s pouring rain!”

The rain wasn’t exactly “pouring”, but Ian held his coat over Cristiano’s head as he walked to the car. Zane smiled and turned to go back in the bar.

“What’s going on?” Davey asked when Zane sat down at the table. “I’m practically being raped here!”

“I just had a very interesting visitor,” Zane said. “You’re never going to believe it.”

***

Davey stood in Zane’s bedroom doorway, drying his hair with a towel from the bathroom. Zane gazed at him from the bed, sprawled and smoking a cigarette. Ian wasn’t back yet -- he’d gone to keep Cristiano company, somewhere.

“I can’t believe he came all the way here to see you,” Davey said, lowering the towel. His hair hung in wild, damp tangles around his face. “Or that he’s going to rehab in California.”

Zane reached over to the bedside table and ground his cigarette out in the ashtray there. “I think he needs to know we don’t hate him. And I think he might actually love Elliot.”

“Do you think that’s possible, after only three months?”

“I don’t know. Do you think it’s possible?” Zane asked meaningfully.

Davey walked over to the bed. The rain had been pouring when they left the bar, and Davey’s t-shirt clung to his chest. He looked down at Zane. “You know,” he said, “your visitor distracted you. You didn’t uphold your part of the bargain.”

“You mean the whiskey bargain?”

“I’ll meet you out in the car.” He tossed the towel on the bed.

“It’s cold out there!” Zane protested.

“I’ll warm it up.” Davey headed out of the room. “Come on!” He called back. “You’re not getting out of this!”

Zane sat up with a sigh. The words “And it burns, burns, burns…” traveled back to him in dulcet tones, and he grinned.

Chapter 25

“So, what did Cristiano have to say?” Davey asked.

Zane and Davey stood outside the terminal of Nashville International Airport, huddled in their jackets, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of arriving passengers and skycaps. The day had dawned particularly chilly, the wind biting, but Zane wanted a smoke and Tennessee, unlike most of Kentucky, had an indoor smoking ban.

“He’s really messed up,” Zane said. He cupped his hand around his lighter, trying to get a flame to stay up long enough to light the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. “Ian said they talked for hours, too, the first night he was here.” Zane finally got the cigarette lit and took a deep drag. “Cristiano’s got a lot of fucked up shit in his past. Failed relationships, problems with his family, people who’ve abused him. It’s just unreal. It’s not surprising he turned to drugs.”

Davey squinted at him. “It just goes to show, you don’t really know what’s going on inside of people.”

“No kidding. And he’s such a great guy on the surface. Always offering advice, helping people out. Hell, he straightened me out more than once. No one bothered to help him until it was almost too late, though.”

“You can’t help someone if you don’t know they need help. If they hide it, what can you do? If they never ask for help, you can’t give it to them.”

Zane took a drag off his cigarette, looking out toward the freeway in the distance humming with morning traffic. He recalled sitting in the little diner with Cristiano the night before, his last night before he had to leave for rehab in California. He remembered the darkness in Cristiano’s eyes as he spoke softly, his hands trembling around a cup of coffee.

“You’re not still blaming yourself, are you?” Davey asked.

“For my part in it, yes. But you’re right. There’s a hell of a lot more to it.” He glanced around, saw the area had mostly cleared of people, and reached over and smoothed Davey’s blowing hair behind his ear. Davey smiled.

“I don’t know what to make of this new, caring you,” Davey said.

Zane gave him a half-smile. “Ian’s going to make sure he gets checked into rehab all right. I don’t think he needs to be alone right now.”

“They’d make a cute couple, wouldn’t they?”

Zane snorted. “I don’t want Elliot to kill my brother. I’m glad Cristiano’s got a friend like Ian, though. If anybody can handle a basket case, it’s Ian.” He smiled meaningfully.

“He’s a good man. It must be in the Reed genes. A big heart.”

“We got other big things in our jeans too.” Zane quirked an eyebrow, taking another drag off his cigarette.

Davey shook his head. “Finish that fucking cancer stick so we can go back inside. I’m freezing my ass off.”

“You’re the one who made me start smoking again!”

Inside the airport, they passed through security and found their gate, even though they had over an hour before their flight back to Paris. Ian and Cristiano had a much earlier flight to Los Angeles, and Zane and Davey had gone to the airport with them.

They sat in plastic chairs near a wall of windows, watching planes go back and forth outside on the tarmac. After a long lull of silence, Zane finally spoke. “Two more weeks,” he said softly.

Davey looked at him and they held each other’s gaze for a moment.

“Yes.” Davey looked down at his lap, picking his nails. “Do you think you’ll get the job Saul is setting you up for?”

“I hope so. Are you going to try to get your line started with Troy?”

“I hope so.”

They fell silent again, and then Davey pushed his wind-tangled hair back from his face and cleared his throat. “So. What happens when these two weeks are over? With us? Is there an ‘us?’”

Zane smiled. “I’m getting you a key made up for my mother’s house. And as a wise man once said to me, that’s why God made planes.”

Davey smiled back. Zane saw a faint hint of pink in his cheeks. “Does this mean I have a boyfriend?”

“If you want one, I suppose.” Zane glanced away, afraid to look Davey in the eye, afraid of the way his heart raced. A moment later he flinched as something soft and warm touched his cheek. Davey’s hand.

“I want one,” Davey said.

“Then I guess today, all your dreams are coming true. Or possibly, your nightmares.”

Davey leaned toward him, still smiling. His scent preceded him. “If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.”

“What did you tell me about not getting sappy?”

“I meant
you’re
not allowed to get sappy, because you’re not very good at it.”

Zane shook his head. “I might have found the right idiot, but something tells me I’m the dumb one for getting myself into this.”

***

Zane wanted to stretch their last two weeks out as long as possible, but as if to spite him, everything kicked into high gear. The final days of shooting were intense, as Saul tried to cram everything in he still needed. There would be pick-ups eventually, but Saul wanted as few as possible. Elliot had a lot to do, and Zane had to be at his side constantly.

However, Zane spent as much time as he possibly could with Davey when they weren’t working. They went sightseeing, ate together, and slept in the same bed every night. Sometimes they had sex, sometimes Zane found contentment in just holding him in the darkness, absorbing the bittersweet touch of his skin, so wonderful and yet slipping through his fingers so fast. Zane lamented he had wasted so much time, and yet their final days were more poignant because of the loss.

Elliot remained sullen and withdrawn most of the time, but regular reports from Ian on Cristiano’s progress gradually brought a smile back to his face and made him more sociable.

“I’m going to come out, after the premiere,” he told Zane one evening after shooting, while they were gathering Elliot’s things in his dressing room. “I don’t want it to overshadow the movie. Or -- keep people from seeing it.”

Zane paused in shoving Elliot’s script in his bag and stared at him. “I’m proud of you. I hope…it goes well for you.”

Elliot eyed him. “I hope things go well for you, too. Are you sad it’s almost over?”

Zane was silent for a moment. “Yes,” he finally said, his voice almost a whisper. “I am. There was a time I couldn’t wait for it to be over. And now…” he trailed off.

“We’ve both changed, haven’t we?”

“Yes, we have.”

“You think for the better?”

“It couldn’t possibly be for the worse.”

Elliot’s grim expression lifted and he smiled. “I’m glad I hired you, Zane. I know this isn’t what you’d like to be doing, but I’m glad you’re here with me.”

Zane zipped the bag. “I’m glad I’m here with you too. Even though you’re a pain in the ass to work for.”

“One pain in the ass deserves another.”

“Yeah. That’s probably why me and Davey are together, too.”

The final day of shooting came without mercy. Elliot only had a small part in the final scene, but Zane would have been there regardless.

To Zane’s surprise, Saul asked him if he’d like to act as an assistant director during the shot. Zane jumped at the opportunity, even though such a sudden, huge responsibility made him nervous as hell. After Zane put on the little headset so he could hear Saul’s direction, Davey walked over to him and grinned.

“Look, we’re twins!” Davey wiggled the mouthpiece extending from his own headset, which he wore to hear direction from the key costumer.

“I feel like I’m working the drive-thru at my old high school job,” Zane said.

“It makes you feel important, doesn’t it? To be so connected to everyone.” Davey then rolled his eyes, touching his left headphone. “Speaking of, back to work.” Davey couldn’t stand his substitute boss, who had apparently just summoned him.

“All right, people!” Saul called out. “This is the last Martini Shot! Let’s make sure it goes smoothly!”

Zane took a deep breath. His stomach was in a million knots, as if Boy Scouts had used it for practice. He tried to remember everything he’d learned in school and everything he’d seen Saul do.

The shot went smoothly for the most part, and once Zane started concentrating he wasn’t so nervous. Saul only utilized him a few times, but he performed perfectly, as eager to impress the director as he wanted to accomplish something for himself. Zane liked the actor playing Napoleon, and the man kept making everyone laugh, so Zane couldn’t stay tense.

When Saul called the final cut, everyone broke into cheers. The mood quickly became joyous and emotional as people hugged each other, shook hands, and slapped each other on the back. Zane got hugs from both Rory and Saul, and Saul praised his performance. Zane beamed so much he thought he must look like a spotlight.

Stepping away from the celebration, Zane looked across the set for Davey. He stood in the midst of the costuming crew, lips pursed, eyes bright, just watching everyone else embrace and congratulate each other. Zane’s heart lurched, but he knew why Davey looked so unhappy, why he wasn’t jumping into the joyous fray: Cristiano should have been there.

Zane looked around for Rory. “Hey, Rory. What channel are the costumers on?” He adjusted the headset on his ears; in all the excitement, he hadn’t taken it off yet.

“Uh, three, I think.”

Zane pulled the transmitter off his belt. He realized his hands were shaking as he changed the channel. He didn’t know if anyone else in the costuming crew still had their headsets on and he didn’t particularly care.

“Hey, Davey?” he said into the microphone. “It’s Zane. Can you hear me?”

Davey looked up, scanned the crowd around Zane, and then rested his gaze on him. He smiled, though he still looked sad.

“Hey there,” Davey said. “Congratulations. You looked good out there.” His voice sounded tinny through the headphones.

“Thank you.” Zane still held the transmitter, staring across the set at him. “Cristiano is here with us in spirit, you know. He’d be proud of you.”

“I know.” Davey smiled again, tightly. “You can walk over here and talk to me, you know.”

Zane swallowed. “Davey?”

“Yes, Zane?”

“I love you.”

Davey just stared at him, his expression almost comically shocked. Then he put his hand over his mouth, his eyes wide and vivid.

Zane took off the headset and put it, along with the transmitter, aside on a table. He worked his way through the crowd toward Davey, dodging hugs and handshakes. Davey met him halfway. His eyes were bright. He stared at Zane as if he’d never seen him before, as if he’d fallen from the sky. The light in his eyes said more than words could have. Zane put his arms around him.

“Say it again,” Davey whispered, his voice choked. He gripped Zane’s shirt, hands shaking.

Zane took Davey’s face in his hands. He placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, then drew back and whispered, looking into his eyes, “I love you, Davey Alexander. You’ve made me a better person.”

Davey smiled, lips trembling, tears spilling over and slipping down his cheeks. Zane couldn’t believe how raw he felt, how torn down to the bone, and yet fearless at the same time. He didn’t care what anyone thought, what they might say. The emotions simply were, and he simply let them be, for the first time.

Davey flung his arms around him. He clung to Zane and pressed his face against his shoulder. Zane held him.

“It’s all been worth it, just for this moment,” Davey said in a soft, wavering voice.

“Yes,” Zane whispered, stroking his hair. “It has.”

Chapter 26

The wrap party Saul threw for the end of filming made the one in Cairo look like a slumber party. Saul actually rented a castle for the occasion -- Chateau de Bonaguil in the French commune of Saint-Front-sur-Lémance, a majestic, hulking, white stone structure on a high rocky hill between two rivers. Saul spared no expense on the banquet hall where he held the party, filling the room with decorations, entertainment, and food fit for a king.

“I wonder if this place is haunted?” Elliot asked as he led Zane through the crowd toward the tables full of food. They made a plan of attack before they arrived -- avoid hobnobbing, acquire nourishment.

“Of course it is.” Zane looked around for Davey. “Aren’t all castles?”

“We better get some food before Saul starts making speeches,” Elliot said. “Or else
we’ll
be haunting this place after we die of starvation.”

Zane had a plate full of food when he caught sight of Davey, wending his way through the crowd. He wore black dress pants and a clingy, dark blue shirt. The outfit made his body look incredible, slender and muscular in perfect proportion. He also wore clunky, half-unlaced boots. His hair had an impressive -- and gorgeous -- amount of wave. Only a small sense of remaining dignity kept Zane from jumping up and down and waving his arms to get his attention.

Davey spotted Zane and smiled, then made his way over.

“I saw Saul headed for the stage up front,” Davey said as he reached him. “He’s going to start talking already, isn’t he?”

“As much as he talks, he has to start this early.” Zane handed Davey his drink, which he’d only taken a small sip from. “Here, I’ll get another.”

“You’re so thoughtful, darling.”

“You are my little idiot.”

Saul indeed gave a speech, thanking everyone profusely and waxing poetic for a good ten minutes. Then, practically everyone in the cast had to get up and make a speech after him. The press had been invited, and they hovered around the stage, taking pictures of every moment. Eventually Saul pushed Elliot up on stage. Zane stood back, smirking.

Elliot gave a nice speech about how much he had enjoyed doing the movie, working with Saul, and gave kudos to all his castmates. He made a few jokes, got slightly sentimental, and finally raised a rousing toast to Saul. Saul looked gleefully tipsy and nearly spilled his drink when he lifted his glass in acceptance. Then Elliot continued.

“I made a lot of wonderful friends on this movie, a lot of people I’ll never forget, people who changed my life. One of those people I grew particularly close to was my personal assistant, Zane Reed.” He pointed Zane out and everyone looked at him. Zane froze. “He kept me sane through all those days in that bitch of a desert. Not to mention hydrated.” The crowd laughed. “And he kept my perspective in front of me when it wanted to wander off course, when I didn’t want to study my lines or get in costume again. He taught me some things about myself, too. And I just wanted to thank him for going above and beyond his job duties. I hope his future is a bright one, and I hope all his dreams come true.”