Porter (Dick Dynasty #1) (25 page)

“I really like their pastas here. I’ve never ordered the same thing twice and not once have I been disappointed. You could probably throw a dart at the menu and still get something delicious that you didn’t even know you were in the mood for.”

I followed his advice and picked something at random. We placed our orders when the waiter came back and something about the forced interaction kicked my brain back into gear.

“How’s sobriety treating you?” I asked before taking a long sip of my water.

“It’s good so far! I think I’ve got myself back under control. I don’t
crave
it anymore. That was the hardest part, I think. You know how I am when it comes to being told I can’t have something.”

I laughed, “I think that’s a genetic trait. The men in this family have always gotten what they wanted. It was bred into us.”

“You’d think people would learn not to tell us no, right?”

There was a glimmer in his eye that I hadn’t seen since we were kids. The part of me that had been in charge for the past fifteen years reared it’s ugly head and pointed an ugly, shriveled finger at me.

You let that light die once. Don’t do it again.

“I’m really glad you’re off that stuff, Parker. It was killing you and there was nothing I could do to stop it. You’re looking great and I’m willing to bet your bank account says thank you. What are your long-term plans? We haven’t talked about it in a long time. I remember when you landed your first contract you were all about buying a house and getting your pilot’s license so that you could buy a plane. Is that plan back on the table? Has the dream changed? Who are you now, Parker? I want to know my little brother again.”

One side of his mouth was raised in a gentle smile as he recalled the glory days. We were all practically kids at the time and had the entire world at our feet. Anything had been possible for us.

“You know, I haven’t really though much about it lately. Now that you mention it though, there’s still a part of me that wants that. I’ve spent enough time living the party life and you’re right, it almost killed me. I think it’s probably about time I grow up and remember what was important when I was still myself.”

“What can I do to help?” The prospect of Parker finally getting his shit together kindled something inside me that demanded I do everything in my power to help keep him on that path.

“I think you missed the whole point of the conversation we just had, Porter. It’s not something you should have to help with. My life is something I’m responsible for, not you. You know as well as I do that I have the power to make this happen for myself. It’s just a matter of applying some self-control, right?”

I nodded my head, “It’s easier said than done, Parker. I’ve had my days where I just want to go out and blow all my money. I mean, I have enough of it, right? And there’s always more to be made. But I don’t want to find myself ninety years old and broke. Therefore, I exercise a little bit of restraint when it comes to living the lavish lifestyle I’m perfectly capable of pulling off. At least for the short term.”

“You don’t think I know a little something about restraint at this point?”

There was a smile on his face as he said it, so I knew it was more something he was proud of than him telling me I was being a dick.

“Sorry,” I apologized anyway, “I guess I don’t know how to turn off Big Brother Bot. You’ve managed to get clean without me, I’m sure you can manage to do whatever it is you want to do on your own, too. But just keep me in mind if you ever need help, or a co-pilot, or even just an older brother to bitch to when life doesn’t treat you fair.”

“I
do
miss having people to talk to,” he smiled over the two plates of food between us as the waiter set them down, “I’ve kind of had to alienate myself from everyone I hung out with while I go through this. I think I’m getting back to the point where I can hang out with them again without getting crazy.”

I didn’t like the idea of him putting himself back in that situation, but I bit my tongue and didn’t say anything. If I was ever going to get used to the idea of him being an adult, I needed to start practicing. If there was one way to test his self-control, a party with his old friends was it.

Besides, don’t they say that relapse is a part of recovery? Addicts are allowed to make mistakes along the bumpy road to sobriety, right?

God, I hoped he didn’t make that mistake.

“Enough heavy shit,” he decreed, “I’m starving to death over here. Let’s eat.”

I smiled at him and tried to shut off the part of my brain that kept telling me to advise against him hanging out with his old friends.

We ate our meal in silence. Not because we had nothing to say or because we were uncomfortable, but because the food was delicious and I couldn’t shovel it down my throat fast enough.

I washed the pasta down with the last swallow of my beer and sat back against the booth with a heavy sigh. It had been a long time since I’d stuffed myself so full of food that I had a hard time breathing and I quickly remembered why I didn’t make it a habit.

“Holy shit,” I groaned, “I think I’m gonna explode.”

“I feel your pain,” Parker rubbed his stomach with his palm, “I need to take a nap while this food baby incubates.”

As soon as the word “nap” left his mouth, I could feel my eyes getting heavy.  I couldn’t afford a nap. I had a dinner to make. Napping was
not
an option.

“Let’s get the hell out of here before I pass out on the table,” he flagged down the waiter again and asked for the check.

Outside in the parking lot, we exchanged an awkward goodbye hug and headed for our cars.

“Be safe!” I yelled across the pavement.

He waved over his shoulder in acknowledgment and I had no choice but to consider it a success that he didn’t flip me off.

I hit the grocery store on my way back to Holly’s house and picked up all the stuff I’d need. I hauled it all into the house in one go and dumped all ten bags on the kitchen floor in a pile.

The need to pee had hit me halfway through the grocery store. By the time I stuck my key in the front door, my teeth had been close to floating out of my head. Groceries could be put away
after
I answered the call of nature.

I’m a firm believer in the theory of toilet gravity and that day was no different than any other: The closer I got to the toilet, the closer I got to pissing my pants.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I quickly washed and dried my hands so I could check the message. It was a text from Holly letting me know that she’d be out of the office right at five o’clock. It’d take her half an hour to get home, giving me just under an hour to have dinner cooked, plated, and on the table. It’d be tight, but I could do it.

I was chopping like a mad man a few minutes later when my phone rang on the counter next to me. I answered on the first ring and hit the speaker button.

“Ryan,” I answered as I grabbed an onion and continued chopping, “What’s goin’ on, man?”

“Well, Porter,” I could hear the stress in his voice, “are you sitting down?”

“No, Ryan, I’m not sitting down. I’m trying to make dinner for my girlfriend. Why are you on my phone?”

“With you being a big actor now, I just didn’t want you to faint and break your face or something. A fucked up nose and some black eyes isn’t going to land you any roles, dude.”

“Ryan, I’m fine,” I set the knife down and splayed my palms on the counter, giving all my attention to my cell phone, “Spill it.”

“Well, it’s been an interesting ride, my friend. As of three hours ago, you’re officially retired from the porn industry.” He blew out a long breath, probably waiting for me to respond. I was busy trying to sort out the warring emotions I felt about his announcement though, so he kept talking, “The first few blogs went live as soon as I hit send on the email and they just kept trickling out there. Once the news hit social media, it went viral within an hour. From what I understand, most of the major news stations will be covering it on the five o’clock news here in a few minutes. I wanted to be the one to tell you so that you didn’t have to hear it from the TV.”

“You should’ve insisted that I sit down, Ryan,” I found myself leaning heavily against the counter to keep myself from sliding down the wall and spending the rest of the evening sitting on the kitchen floor.

“I tried, Porter. You, as usual, didn’t want to hear anything I had to say.”

“You’re not exactly known for dropping bombshells on me like this though. I wasn’t expecting it is all. It’s a bit of a shock.”

“You sound like my bank account, Porter.”

The line went dead and I was left with my silent phone, a pile of vegetables to be chopped, and steak fajitas to make for two.

The screen flashed to life with a buzz one more time, displaying the time and a message from Holly. Five o’clock on the dot.

Just leaving the office. See you soon!

“Shit!” I got back to chopping with a vengeance and tossed the strip steak into the frying pan. I doused it in olive oil and spices and waited for it to start sizzling. I didn’t want the veggies to be soggy, so I had to wait until the meat was nearly done before adding the bell peppers and onions.

I sent off text messages to Parker, Preston, and my mom to tell them my retirement was official and poured myself a glass of wine. I flipped the meat in the pan and stepped around the corner to set up the bar with plates and a wine glass for Holly. I was down to ten minutes until she was due to walk in the door.

I added the veggies to the pan and prayed that everything would come together nicely in the end.

I tossed the tortillas in the microwave at the last minute and filled the wine glass I had set out for her.

Hot plates, silverware, and containers of food slid into place at five thirty-one and I stepped back to survey what I had put together for her. Something was still missing, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I glanced around the room hoping that something would trigger an idea.

“Candles!” I snapped my finger as the idea hit me and ran into the bedroom. I grabbed two of the tapers Holly kept on the windowsill but never lit and carried them back into the living room dining area.

Once they were burning brightly, I shut off all the lights, grabbed her glass of wine, and took up residence in the entryway to wait for her to get home.

I checked my phone compulsively for the next ten minutes.

No texts and no phone calls came through.

I finally broke down and hit the call button. It rang six times and went to voicemail.

“Holly, where are you, beautiful? Call me back.”

I disconnected the call and placed her glass of wine back on the counter. I gathered up the rapidly cooling food and put it in the oven so that it would stay warm.

A text went out moments later saying the same thing my voicemail had and I began to pace. It wasn’t like Holly to be late home without saying anything. We had a schedule and, until that point, neither of us had deviated from it without some kind of notification.

Something wasn’t right.

I called her phone again and got the same reaction: Six rings and voicemail.

I pulled up Mitch’s number and dialed.

“Porter?”

“Yeah,” I felt like a total fuck tard calling him, “Hey, have you seen Holly?”

“Not since she walked past my desk at five o’clock. She was in a huge rush. Said she was meeting up with you.”

“That was the plan, but she’s not home yet.”

“Wait,” I could hear his confusion even over the phone, “You didn’t pick her up?”

“No,” I didn’t like where the conversation was heading, “I had lunch with my brother and came straight home to start cooking dinner for her. She texted me on her way out of the office to let me know she was on her way, but I haven’t heard from her since.”

“Porter, her car was still in the parking lot when I left.”

My stomach sank.

“Do you think Becks picked her up?”

“Maybe. Want me to call her and check?” I could hear the panic edging into his voice.

“Would you?”

“Of course!”

“Thanks, Mitch. Let me know as soon as you know anything?”

“You got it, handsome.”

The line went dead and I cursed under my breath.

Pacing a hole in the floor was starting to seem like a pretty legitimate prospect. I laid out a track around the couch and began making laps. It was somewhere around the tenth lap that my phone rang.

“Tell me something good, Mitch.”

“Becks hasn’t heard from her either,” he sounded more freaked out than I was, “I don’t like this, Porter. Becks and I are on our way over. We’ll set up a plan of attack and go from there.”

The other line beeped through, “Gotta go, Mitch. The other line’s ringing.”

I hit the green button to answer the intruding call, “Hello?”

“Porter!” It was Becks, “I’m on my way over there. Have me a glass of wine ready and call me the
moment
you hear from her if she contacts you before I get there.”

“I’d love to if you and Mitch would stop tying up my phone to tell me that you’re on your way here.”

“See you in three minutes,” and the line went dead.

I continued to walk circles around the couch and didn’t bother breaking my stride when Becks stormed through the door like a tornado.

“Wine me,” she demanded.

“The glass on the counter is all yours.”

Mitch was right behind her.

“I brought wine!” he announced, waving the bottles above his head like war banners.

“I called her phone six times on the way over here. I got voicemail every time,” Becks told us, “She’s never ignored me that many times in a row.”

“I called her too,” Mitch said, “Six rings and voice mail.”

“Fuck!” I roared into the room for lack of anything better to say. Becks and Mitch both jumped at the sound of my voice.

“What the
fuck
, Porter?” Becks yelled, holding a hand to her chest, “Are you
trying
to kill us? You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Holly is
missing
, Becks, and I can’t do a fucking thing about it! I don’t even know where to start looking and it’s been an hour and a half since any of us have seen her. She could be fucking
anywhere
by now!”