Something Like Want Read online

  * * * *

  After that first morning, breakfast became production meeting time. With the entire cast and crew of about twenty people all together in Vincent’s kitchen, it was the perfect time to go over any issues that needed discussing or notes that people needed to be aware of.

  Vincent was casual about it, but he didn’t tolerate anyone not listening. I liked the relaxed atmosphere, and I appreciated that Vincent did his best to keep us all in the loop.

  He’d hired Milo to keep us fed, and the man didn’t skimp on breakfast. He said more than once it was the most important meal of the day, so there was always an entire buffet laid out. Today the offerings were particularly enticing: home fries, bacon, sausage, and French toast, along with made-to-order omelets made up the hot dishes. He also had all sorts of fruit, cereal, and bread on offer as well. A continental breakfast to rival any hotel’s, and it tasted better too.

  I’d just sat down with my heaping plate when I realized I didn’t have my coffee. I half stood, peering around, before I spotted it on the counter where I’d poured it. I’d gotten distracted before I’d even added creamer, and then forgot it. I straightened and took a step to retrieve it as Spencer walked into the kitchen with a cheery “Good morning” for everyone. He caught sight of me and then followed my gaze. When he saw the cup, he made a beeline for it, took hold, and pulled it over to him. I didn’t even try to hide my scowl.

  Coffee-stealing fucker.

  I sat down hard, vowing I’d get myself a new cup once he’d finished making his breakfast. All the seats at the big table were full, so he was going to have to find a chair at the smaller additional table Vincent had placed along the back wall. I was glad he wouldn’t be near me, and if I was lucky, the people in between us would obstruct my view.

  Spencer crossed the room and stopped next to me, placing the mug of coffee and a glass of apple juice on the table above my plate. I stared in surprise. I wasn’t aware he knew I wasn’t fond of orange juice, and the coffee looked to have exactly the right amount of creamer added. I glanced up, but he gave a small smile and walked away. I eyed him warily as I picked up the mug and took a sip. Perfect, exactly how I liked it.

  If he’d poisoned it, at least I had witnesses.

  Spencer picked up the glass carafe and held it up. “Anyone need a refill?”

  A couple of positive responses, and Lena just held her mug aloft. Trying to get her to function without copious amounts of caffeine was impossible. Spencer made the rounds, smiling jovially and teasing her, until the pot was gone. Milo took it from him with a fond smile and an admonishment to eat.

  I squinted. Spencer really had them fooled. The way he interacted with everyone, it was clear they all liked him. So they obviously didn’t see his real personality as I did. Of course, he just hadn’t shown his true colors yet. I wasn’t going to let myself be drawn in by his facade. I knew what kind of asshole he was, despite the way he was acting in present company.

  He’d been nice to me at first too.

  “Can we get started? Is that all right with everyone?” Vincent’s tone clued me into the fact it wasn’t the first time he’d tried to rein us in. Instantly I pulled my mind from my musings and gave the director my full attention.

  Vincent was quick but thorough, giving us the rundown of the day’s agenda. It sounded pretty straightforward. The majority of the day would be taken up with shooting the arrival scene. Since the plot had the five remaining friends coming together to honor their dead friend, they’d rented the house where they all normally vacationed. It was a complex scene to shoot, even if the dialogue and staging were simple enough. Vincent laid out what he expected of us, and then bade us all to finish eating so we could get to work.

  I did as Vincent instructed, but I couldn’t help keeping part of my attention on the other table. Spencer was telling a story. Though I couldn’t hear all the details, it was apparently very funny. Everyone at the table was laughing hard enough to cry, and Brandon was actually holding his sides.

  I lost my appetite. The asshole really was a good actor if he had everyone believing he was a good guy.

  Chapter 4

  Vincent was scribbling madly on his tablet and consulting with the director of photography while they figured out how to reset the scene we were supposed to be shooting. Even though we’d rehearsed carefully, when it came time to finally perform, it wasn’t working—the lighting and energy were all wrong. So Vincent was trying to restage the living room in hopes that would make the scene work better.

  “Are you going to give me something I can actually work with?” I hissed. I was careful to keep my voice low.

  “Me?” Spencer shot back, his voice dripping with venom. “I’m not the one who can’t get a fucking line right!”

  “I’d have no problem with my lines if you’d actually give me any kind of emotion to play off of!”

  His let out a derisive snort. “Sure. Blame me for your lack of talent. If that helps you sleep at night.”

  “You fucker! Where the hell—”

  “All right, you fools!”

  Vincent’s voice boomed out, causing us both to snap our mouths shut and turn our attention to our esteemed leader. He was scowling; he stood and dropped his notes onto the chair he’d vacated. He walked closer to us. “Look, we’re going to move the camera over here and shoot you guys from this angle instead. It’s going to give you a smaller space to work with, but the framing is better and we can get in closer on the action. Do you think you can handle that?”

  There was only one answer we could give, and in unison we said, “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Do we need to run over it one more time?”

  Spencer shook his head and I said, “Nope.”

  “Fine. Places.”

  I moved into position, and a half a beat later, so did Spencer. We faced off, and I breathed deeply a few times.

  In this scene our characters were finally going to have it out. Having been in a relationship for more than a year, Sam couldn’t bring himself to come out of the closet and Chris was sick of the lying. The only person who knew of our relationship was our dead friend, the one we’d come to mourn. It was one of the emotional highlights of the film, and if we couldn’t get it right, the whole storyline would be for nothing.

  Vincent directed the Steadicam operator into place, and Melora stepped up with the clapper, as she was pitching in that way today. Vincent took one last look over the setup, then turned back to reclaim his chair. Once he was settled, he nodded at Melora, who lifted the clapper and snapped it shut.

  “Mark,” she said before scurrying out of frame.

  “And…action!”

  I took a deep breath and glared daggers at Spencer. That part wasn’t hard. “You knew what you were getting into when you started this thing with me,” I ground out. “And now you’re changing your mind?”

  Spencer’s expression softened; he was trying for soothing. “That’s not it at all. Sam, I love you. I just don’t understand why you have to—”

  “I told you why!” I snapped, taking a step closer, right into his personal space.

  “It’s bullshit,” Spencer said matter-of-factly, “and you know it. And you stand here when we’re supposed to be honoring John’s life. But you’re dishonoring everything he stood for! Everything he worked for. Did he mean anything to you at all? Or—”

  Wham!

  My punch connected solidly with his jaw, snapping his head back and causing him to stumble. I stood there stunned, staring at him in disbelief. I was supposed to pull the punch, but I’d been too close, and even though it hadn’t been at full strength, it had to hurt. Spencer’s eyes went wide and then murderous as he brought his hand up to cup his jaw.

  “You fucker!” He shouted at the same time as Vincent called “Cut!”

  “Shit, I’m sorry.” I apologized quickly and honestly. “We were closer than in rehearsal. I didn’t mean to hit you so hard.”

  “Like hell you didn’t! You did that o
n purpose!”

  I glared hard, anger roiling in my gut. At him for his accusations and at myself because I shouldn’t find the angry glint in his eyes hot. “I did not. I told you, it was an accident.”

  “Like the one at the Lounge?”

  “No, you condescending asshole. That one was on purpose. Would you like to feel the difference? Because I can sure as hell remind you what it feels like to—”

  “Enough!” Vincent roared.

  We went silent and still. Vincent took a deep breath, and then another, before he pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Finally he looked up.

  “Okay. First off, I could tell that punch was an accident. Spencer, I saw his face, and he didn’t mean it. Second, the whole thing was perfect, and it’ll be the cut in the movie. Now—” He paused and took another slow, deliberate breath. “—Spencer, go ice your jaw so it doesn’t swell or bruise. That’ll be a bitch to cover with makeup. And Alex, come here.”

  Spencer shoved past me and stomped off to the kitchen so he could retrieve some ice. I watched him go, and then, when Vincent cleared his throat, I stepped around the coffee table so I could hear what he had to say.

  He looked at me seriously for a really long minute, and then he shook his head. “You two need to get your fucking shit together.”

  “If he would just—”

  Vincent lifted his hand, effectively cutting me off. “I don’t want to hear it. The only time the two of you aren’t ripping each other’s heads off is when the camera is pointed at you. If I have to have Cody follow you around 24/7, I will, but I’d really rather not. Call a truce. Come to an understanding. Do fucking something. You guys are gold together on film, but I’m not going to spend the next three weeks with you raging at each other. I won’t let you keep disrupting the harmony we’re finding here. I don’t want to replace you, but if you lose us production time, we’re going to have a huge problem. You understand me?”

  His tone was so deadly serious, I knew he meant it. He’d replace one or both of us if we kept at it. I didn’t think it was possible to find any sort of peace with Spencer, but I would have to try. If I made the effort, I couldn’t be blamed when it backfired. I gave Vincent a nod so he would know I’d heard and understood.

  Vincent took the opportunity to send us off for lunch. Milo had cooked off-site and carted it all in so as not to interrupt filming, but it only took him a few minutes to get set up, especially with everyone pitching in to help. Usually, once we had our food, we spread out over the whole of the downstairs while we ate. But people seemed to be giving me a wide berth, which made me feel shitty. Instead of making myself a plate, I went in search of the one man I did not want to see.

  It didn’t take me long to find him. He sat on the railing on the far end of the deck, holding a towel-wrapped ice pack to his jaw.

  He saw me approaching and quickly got down. “I probably wouldn’t break my neck if you pushed me over, but there’s no reason to take chances.”

  I couldn’t quite tell if he was trying to be funny or serious, so I decided it was better not to acknowledge the comment. When I was still a few feet away from him, I stopped; I didn’t want to get too close in case he was of a mind for physical retaliation.

  “Look,” I said, keeping my voice low, “I apologize for what happened in there. I really didn’t mean to punch you. Can we call a truce until this movie is in the can?” The words grated like broken glass, but I’d managed to spit them out.

  Spencer squinted at me. “I think that’s up to you, Alex. This whole thing is on you.”

  Until that moment I didn’t know it was actually possible for someone to feel their blood pressure rise. I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what I thought of him. Then sense prevailed for once, and I stuffed it all down. But I still had to force a calming breath before I could speak. “We’re making something amazing with this film. And when we’re in front of the camera, it works. So let’s avoid each other when we can, and do our jobs when we can’t, and get this done.”

  He studied me for a long moment, and I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me squirm. Eventually his posture relaxed a little and his expression lightened. “I can do that. But the question really is, can you?”

  I didn’t like his implication, and it took everything within me not to react to what he said. Instead I looked him straight in the eye, taking up his challenge. If he wanted to play this game, I certainly could. There was no way I was letting Spencer Johns get the better of me. Not when he already thought himself above me to begin with. I would be the bigger man here. I was capable of keeping my hate for him in check if it meant showing him up.

  “I won’t have any problem with that.” My voice was ice.

  He looked taken aback for a split second; then he angled his body away as he lifted the ice pack to his jaw once again. “Fine. Good.”

  “Good,” I echoed, staring at his perfect profile and then tamping down the seething anger. Might as well start now.

  I turned to leave and was halfway across the deck when he spoke, stopping me in my tracks.

  “Alex.”

  Just that. Just my name. And yet his tone had lowered, his voice turned husky, and for a moment I was transported back to my bed. To us, together there. He’d said my name the same way that night, so full of want, and hearing it again almost made me weak.

  But the anger was stronger, and I was about to move, when he once again succeeded in rendering me immobile.

  “Back then, all those months ago…” He began in that same tone. “At the Lounge. Alex, what was that about? I was so happy to see you, and—” He took a quick breath. “Why did you hit me?”

  The way his voice changed, going soft, I realized in that moment that he honestly didn’t know. I clenched my jaw and balled my hands into fists, even as an aching hole reopened in my chest. All that anger, all that hurt came surging back in. It threatened to choke me; it was so intense and immediate. For a long moment, all I could do was breathe. That he had no idea how much he’d hurt me, that he honestly didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, was all too much. I wanted to punch him again, to bloody that perfect face until it was unrecognizable.

  That intense rage was not my norm, not even where Spencer was concerned. For a second it was scary. And that was enough to get my brain engaged again. I stood there with my back to him, trying to think of what to say. My mind raced as I thought of and discarded a dozen different responses. But in the end, there was nothing I could say. Nothing could make this better, and even if I explained things to him, there was nothing he could say that would excuse what he’d done.

  So I didn’t say anything. I took a breath. And then a step. And in the spirit of the truce we’d struck only moments before, I walked away.

  Chapter 5

  Things got a bit easier after our conversation on the deck. Enough so that I didn’t feel like I had to hide in the downtime anymore. A couple of evenings later, I wandered into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, with the intent to take it outside onto the deck with my e-reader and enjoy the sunset. But I did a double take at the group sitting around the table.

  We’d finished a little bit earlier than normal, so it was barely nine o’clock. They were all laughing and happy, and I couldn’t help a small smile as I crossed to the fridge.

  Lena caught sight of me just as I pulled open the fridge door, and she threw out a hand in my direction, wiggling her fingers and pitching her voice high. “Come play with us!”

  I snorted out a laugh and lost my grip on the door, so it swung shut. “That’s not creepy at all.”

  She cackled and waggled her eyebrows. Melora slid her beer bottle over one place and then moved chairs, before patting the one she’d just vacated in invitation.

  I glanced around at those assembled. The ladies were joined by Cody the cameraman, Brandon and Jared, and—of course—Spencer. If I sat in that empty chair, I’d be directly across from him. Staring right at him.


  I didn’t want to. I wanted to turn around and walk away, but I couldn’t think of a good enough excuse to beg off. And we’d just managed to find a sort of peace among the cast and crew. I didn’t want to break it, but it probably wasn’t a good idea if I played any sort of game with that man.

  Still, I asked warily, “What are we playing?”

  Cody answered. “Never Have I Ever. Grab a beer and come sit down.”

  I groaned and shook my head. I really did not need to be involved in a drinking game. I’d opened my mouth to refuse, but Lena was too fast.

  “Come on. One beer’s worth,” she wheeled. “It’s a great team-building experience.”

  I took a deep breath. One beer. Okay. I could do that in the name of unity. I really did not want to fuck up the harmony we’d finally established, and if I declined, it would seem shitty of me. Besides, if it got too much, I could just leave. Get up from the table and walk upstairs, shut myself away from everyone else, and decompress. I could handle sitting across from him for one beer without reaching across the table and strangling him to death.

  Most likely, anyway.

  I opened the fridge, retrieved a beer, and held it up to raucous applause. With a rueful grin, I shook my head as I went to sit down, resolutely avoiding Spencer’s attempt to catch my eye.

  “I s-still don’t know h-how t-to play,” Brandon admitted.

  I offered him a smile, hoping to put him at ease. He only stuttered when he was nervous or uncomfortable, and I liked the easy way his drawl softened the edges of his words when he felt at ease.

  “It’s simple, angel,” Jared said as he slid his hand up the back of Brandon’s neck and into his hair. “Each person takes a turn saying a ‘never have I ever’ phrase, and if you actually have done it, you take a drink.”

  “I’ll go first,” Melora announced. She tapped her finger against her lips, making a show of thinking, and then her face brightened. “I’ll start easy. Never have I ever had sex.”