Anyone But the Superstar (Anyone But You #3)

Chapter 25

25

FELIX

Having your ass chewed out verbally by someone who blames you for their ass being chewed out literally is not fun. Two days later, I’m still reeling.

I drop my head back on the Four Seasons suite’s sofa, exhausted from the day’s long and, thankfully, final shoot.

As expected, Ron lost his mind after the Hollywood rumor mill began attacking his two co-stars. Phrases like, ‘Unacceptable and unprofessional behavior’, ‘Keep it in your pants’ and, ‘There will be hell to pay’ were banded about until David, Anne’s professor talked Ron down.

He wasn’t even mad about the bad press, either. Just the black eye. Everything to Ron is inconsequential against the shooting schedule. And seeing as, even after Hollywood make-up magic was shellacked on my face, Ron still had to rearrange the shoot to hide the swelling around my eye, I’m one mistake away from being on Ron’s blacklist.

Especially when you add in the constant re-shoots from Amanda missing her marks and forgetting her lines – all from being a victim the cheating rumor Camilla spread about us, no doubt.

Our PR firms mutually denied the affair, issuing a joint statement: It is unfortunate in this day and age that two people of opposite sex cannot share a ride back to their hotel without the public assuming something more than friendship. Amanda and Felix are simply friends and colleagues who share the utmost respect for each other personally and professionally.

Thankfully, the studio issued their own statement in regard to the picture of Elizabeth and me kissing, shutting down any further inquiries: As cell phones, tablets and cameras are contractually forbidden, not only on set, but inside the government facility, we will be taking legal action to get to the bottom of the leak.

Even so, the news outlets have commented on the glaring absence of my own statement in regard to my supposed relationship with Camilla Branson or the whereabouts of my mother.

The phone in my hand vibrates.

Rubbing my tired eyes, I take a deep breath and smile before sliding my phone open. ‘Hi, M? ?—’

‘What’s wrong?’ She leans forward, studying my picture on her iPad, noticing the swelling under the make-up I left on for her call. ‘Did you get hurt on set?’

‘No, I?—’

‘I knew it.’ She leans back, throwing her hands up and letting them fall on the table in front of her with a smack. ‘All those years doing such dangerous stunts and you hurt yourself on a romantic comedy.’

‘It’s just a black eye. It doesn’t hurt.’ It doesn’t hurt now , but it hurt like a bitch when it first happened. I’m just thankful as hell that Jack showed up when he did, stopping Elizabeth’s brother from bashing in the other side of my face .

‘There’s something else besides your eye.’ She tilts her head, still assessing my face. ‘What else is wrong?’

I flinch, wondering how the women I care about can see through me so easily.

Wo man . Singular. Anne/Elizabeth doesn’t count anymore.

‘I—’ I pause, emotion suddenly choking me now that it’s time to confess.

Jack and I agreed that as Camilla has already gotten people focused on my mother, whether she leaked the news or not, it would be better to brace Mom for the possibility of people finding out she’s in rehab before she finishes the program and checks out of the facility next week. That way, she can set up more sessions with the in-house counselors to help her manage any anxiety the attention may bring.

‘ Cora??o —’ The word falls softly over the call ‘—you can tell me anything.’

‘I’m sorry, M?e .’ I press my index finger and thumb against my eyelids, trying to ease the sting. ‘It’s my fault.’

‘What’s your fault, meu filho ?’

Holding up my phone, I stare down at the floor between my legs. ‘Someone knows you’re in rehab.’ I’m wearing the cowboy boots Anne/Elizabeth bought me. ‘I’m doing my best, but the press may find out and?—’

‘So?’ My mother’s relieved laugh draws my eyes up. ‘Who cares if they know?’

Shocked silent by her reaction, I look at my mother, really look at her. Shoulders back, spine straight, her usual vibrant red lipstick a flat, prideful slash against the darker olive hue of a healthy complexion. Not a trace of the broken woman I checked in to rehab a few months ago.

‘Did you think I wasn’t going to tell anyone? That I should hide it?’ She scoffs at whatever expression I’m making, her eyes narrowing. ‘Are you ashamed of me?’

‘ No .’ The word falls hard and fast from my mouth. ‘Not at all. I just didn’t think?—’

‘That it would be good for your image to have an addict as a mother?’ She crosses her arms over her chest, the stance she’s shown me many times over the years as she took me to task.

‘But you’re not an addict, Mom. It’s just because the doctor knew you were my?—’

‘I am an addict, cora??o .’ Her voice is as strong and steady as her expression. ‘And my addiction has nothing to do with you.’ Staring at my no-doubt bewildered expression, my mother’s eyes soften. ‘ I was the one who asked for more pain pills. And I was the one who took them. I was also the one who hid the fact that I was taking them.’ She uncrosses her arms, laying her palms flat on the table to lean forward. ‘I, Sofia Maria Santos-Jones, am an addict.’

I swallow hard as my mother smiles despite her words, my mind failing to reconcile itself with that fact. ‘But, if it weren’t for me?—’

‘Then I would never have gotten such great care.’ She gestures to the room around her. ‘And I wouldn’t have a strong drive to get better.’ She shakes her head at me. ‘You had nothing to do with this, meu filho .’

Tears I can’t press back spill over. ‘If I had just been there, though. If I had noticed sooner?—’

‘If, if, if…’ Mom waves away my guilt with a flutter of her hand. ‘If I hadn’t fallen in love with your father, if you hadn’t gotten your first big break, if you hadn’t been scratched by the neighbor’s cat when you were little.’

She smirks at the last, surprising a laugh from me as memories of the first time I met Mike Hunt pop into my mind .

‘So many ifs, so many ways life could’ve gone.’ She holds my eyes. ‘ N?o se pode viver assim . The ifs mean nothing. They change nothing.’

I stare at the woman before me. A woman who’s spent her whole life overcoming challenges. Losing her husband, being a single mom, and now, an opioid addiction, and I wonder why I ever thought that she needed me to fight her battles.

Maybe my acting roles have gone to my head. Because she’s the real hero.

‘Now.’ Mother shimmies in her seat, her face lighting up expectantly as her eyes roam over the screen as if trying to see past me. ‘Where is Anne?’ She purses her lips. ‘You didn’t let me talk to her last time.’

Merde .

I run a hand through my hair, flinching when the move pulls on the swollen skin around my eye. ‘She’s, uh, not here.’ I point to the ceiling as if she can see it. ‘I’m back in the hotel.’

Recrossing her arms, my mother settles back into her seat. ‘And why is that?’ She looks more upset over this than her addiction going public.

‘Because she isn’t who she said she was.’ My tone less concrete and more petulant than I’d like.

She discounts my reason with a roll of her eyes. ‘Neither are you half the time.’

I shake my head, unwilling to budge on this. ‘This isn’t a movie, Mom. She lied to me.’

‘I lied to you.’ Mom shrugs. ‘You still love me, don’t you?’

My breath leaving me on a gasp of surprise, I choke out the words. ‘Of course I do, M?e .’

‘Well?’ she asks as if she’s proved her point.

‘This is different.’ My fingers grip the phone harder. ‘ Elizabeth Anne Moore is different. ’

Instead of asking about what I mean, she shrugs. ‘Love is love, cora??o .’ Looking off to the side, my mother’s lips curl as if lost in a happy thought before meeting my eyes again. ‘Just because your current movie is pretending love is all hearts and flowers doesn’t mean that’s the way it is in real life.’

In the smaller screen in the corner of my phone, my expression remains as mutinous as I feel. ‘I never said I loved her.’

‘And I’ve never once called you dumb—’ she lowers her hands, palms up ‘—but here we are.’

‘You think I’m dumb?’

‘What’s that movie you like so much, the one with Tom Hanks?’

I frown, failing to keep up with my mother’s train of thought. ‘ Forrest Gump ?’

‘ Sim , that one.’ She points at me. ‘That quote I like.’

I sigh, suddenly realizing why she brought up my favorite movie. ‘Stupid is as stupid does?’

She nods softly. ‘ Um ótimo conselho .’

Hunching over, I switch hands holding the phone so I can use my left hand to hold my head up by the side not bruised and swollen. ‘So you’re saying I’m not dumb, I’m just acting dumb?’

Mother smiles, her dark lips a stunning contrast to her bright, knowing smile. ‘Why don’t you think it over and tell me, meu filho ?’

Liz

‘Why are men so dumb, Mikey?’ I cuddle the uncomfortable sack of bones closer and bury my face in his soft, leathery skin as one of Felix’s movies plays on mute on the hotel suite’s television .

Having settled things with my mother, she left me to decide whether or not I want her to call my father, or if I should bite the bullet and ask Trish and Rose for another meet-up to see my sister. That was two days ago.

Instead, I tried to distract myself by sightseeing with my family, my thoughts still filled with a dumb, handsome, Hollywood douchebag who broke my heart.

Mike allows my hug for ten seconds before wiggling free and sitting up on his haunches. He drops his head to one side, eyes narrowed on me.

I feel judged. ‘What?’

He tilts his head the other way.

‘Um, you’re supposed to be on my side.’ I rest my hand over my heart. ‘ I love you. Felix only tolerated you.’ At Mike’s continued stare, I flop back on my pillow. ‘All right, so he saved you, too.’

Even though he’s afraid of house cats. Hilariously afraid, but afraid, nonetheless.

I lean over the side of the bed and slide out the container I stole from the condo. A container once full of Felix’s biscoito cookies. Two left.

I pick one up, studying the small indents of Felix’s fingerprints baked into the dough. ‘And he can cook.’

‘Meow.’

Turning, I prop my head on my elbow and glare right back into his ice-blue eyes. ‘He called me talentless.’ Snapping my jaw over the cookie, I make quick work of its annihilation. ‘He thinks I sold him out.’ I close my eyes, feeling nauseous even as my taste buds sing happily.

Felix BASE jumps off a skyscraper on the television.

Mike continues his statue game.

‘Okay, so I should’ve told him my real name before we slept together.’ I grab another pillow, holding this one to my chest seeing as Mike has met his cuddle allowance for the day. ‘That was wrong of me.’

‘Meow.’

‘And I may have called him a douchebag and a cheater before I knew about the Camilla-mother-blackmail thing.’ I wince thinking of Felix’s charming mother and all she’s been going through. All Felix has been going through.

‘ Meow .’

‘Still.’ I lower the pillow, glaring the worst pity-party wingman in existence. ‘After everything he said, you want me to what? Feel bad for the guy? Forgive him?’

Mike’s answer is a paw to the face.

‘Did you…’ I raise my hand to my scraped cheek. ‘Did you just paw slap me?’

‘Meow.’ And with that, Mike gets up on all fours, turns tail, and butthole to my face, sashays off the bed.

Never I have felt so thoroughly told off in all my life as I watch him disappear out of the bedroom and into the suite’s living area.

‘So, I’m so dumb?’

Silence is my only answer, and it isn’t the one I want.

Apparently, I’m not smart enough to figure out what comes next. In life or at work. So I do something I told myself I wouldn’t do when I left to figure things out last year. Something I didn’t do when I needed money for tuition. Something I didn’t even do when I needed medical attention thanks to lidocaine-lined condoms.

Something a dumb girl does when a dumb boy finds his dumb way into her even dumber heart.

I ask for help.

‘I don’t like it.’

My eldest brother Thomas, having traded his sequined cat t-shirt for one with a NASA emblem on it, stands like an ancient immovable oak at the end of the coffee table in front of the suite’s glass balcony doors overlooking the prestigious cityscape of Houston’s Galleria area.

I’m not sure if it’s Thomas’ innate sense of superiority that allows him to find the best vantage point during any negotiation, or his position just gives him his preferred distance from Chase, who’s across the room rocking Mike Hunt while humming an Elvis tune.

Mother gives her opinion to my suggestion by ignoring Thomas and kissing my cheek before heading to my bedroom to make the phone call I asked her to make.

‘I think it’s the right thing to do.’ I tell Thomas, knowing full well it won’t persuade him that my idea to help mitigate the damage and hopefully stop any more miscommunication is a good one.

‘I still don’t like it,’ Thomas says, proving me right.

‘To be fair Tommy-kins—’ Bell leans back on the couch ‘—you don’t like much of anything.’

‘Except Alice,’ Mary chimes in, not looking up from her spot on the floor between my legs, wearing her new astronaut jumpsuit and building the Lego set Thomas bought her during our trip to Space Center Houston.

Thomas’ eyebrow does its usual imperious lift, but a smile plays on his lips as his gaze drops to his daughter. ‘And you, little one.’

Mary, still engrossed in her Lego, rolls her eyes. ‘Duh. ’

Alice, beside Bell on the sofa, rolls her lips in as she pets King Dick Moore on her lap.

I bend over, wrapping my arms around my genius niece and pulling her in for a long, tight hug.

‘So—’ Chase, still trying to console Mike after having cut down on his food due to his recent weight gain, points at Thomas ‘—what exactly is it that you don’t like about Lizzie’s plan?’

The look Thomas gives Chase is withering.

Which, in Thomas’ normal suit and tie, would be intimidating. But now that I’ve seen him in a sequined cat t-shirt, khaki shorts and a split lip looking more like a rowdy fraternity brother at a pride rally than the CEO of a luxury retail conglomerate, the look has lost some of its power.

‘From my research, it is always the man who makes the effort. The grand gesture .’ Thomas turns to me, his softened eyes threatening the stranglehold I have on my emotions. ‘After what I heard that di—’ his eyes drop to Mary ‘— de cidedly rude man say, he should be groveling to you .’

King Dick Moore lifts his head from Alice’s lap, as if to second his master’s opinion.

Chase and I share a look at our proper brother almost resorting to vulgarity in front of his daughter. It’s a side of Thomas neither one of us are used to.

And while I know that he’s right, and that 99 per cent of what Felix accused me of is wrong, just remembering Felix’s expression when he mentioned his mother serves to dissolve most of my righteous indignation. ‘Yes, but I did lie to him.’

Thomas shrugs as if that’s a moot point.

‘And as he’s being blackmailed, then I can understand why he doesn’t believe me.’ Unfortunately, giving reason to Felix’s lack of trust in me doesn’t help ease the pain .

‘I can’t believe we were going to work with someone like Camilla Branson,’ Bell mutters, leaning over Chase’s arm to nuzzle Mike’s round belly.

Chase turns to Thomas. ‘I want to know more about this research you did, T-money.’ He fights Mike’s attempt to escape his hold.

Alice, cat in hand, stands and walks over to Thomas, placing King Dick Moore in his arms.

Instantly, my brother’s rigid posture softens.

Encircling her arms around Thomas’ waist, Alice leans her cheek on his shoulder. ‘He’s been reading my romance novels.’

Chase’s mouth and arms drop, freeing Mike to stalk into the kitchen looking for scraps.

Thomas sniffs in the resulting silence, his fingers combing through King Dick Moore’s long fur.

I have a fleeting thought that maybe it wasn’t my father that Thomas learned his expressions and quirks from, but rather Captain Peacock from Are You Being Served?

Testing the waters, I don a posh, exaggerated British accent, a la Mrs Slocombe. ‘Mr Humphries, are you free?’

Not missing a beat, Chase raises his hand and overturns his palm in a campy, flamboyant gesture. ‘ I’m free .’ His voice melodious and playful.

My battered heart warming, I peek at Thomas, whose expression remains aloof even after my reference to the show the three of us used to watch after school while eating snacks our chef Curtis prepared for us. ‘And you, Captain Peacock?’ I lean into the sweetly condescending tone from our childhood. ‘Are you free?’

There’s a pause, and I swear Chase holds his breath right along with me, until our older brother once more raises his left eyebrow, looks left then right just as Captain Peacock did on the show, before answering with an imperious English accent. ‘I’m free.’

Chase and I lose it, cackling until tears stream down our faces. Until Mother, finished with her phone call, comes out of my room to check on us. Until I know Thomas has given his blessing to my plan and Bell, Alice and Mary look at us like we’re crazy.

And we are. A crazy awesome family.