Chapter 7

7

Leah

He wants me to come? Right here in the car while that guy can look in and see everything?

“Well?” Gage slides his fingers along my bare pussy lips.

“No, this is a bad idea.”

“Are you going to use your safe word?”

I purse my lips and shake my head. He got me. I want this, I’m embarrassed that I want it. If he “forces” me, it takes away my need to make this decision and feel guilty about it.

Smiling in triumph, Gage uses his free hand to lower my window. The guy in the car next to ours lowers his.

“Do you consent to watching her come?” Gage calls across me.

“Fuck yeah.” The guy sounds amused and intrigued.

I cover my eyes in embarrassment, but my pussy is very much on board with this idea.

Gage’s voice is low, growly, and stern. “Stop covering your face, little girl.”

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“But you’re turned on, aren’t you? Come on my fingers. It feels so good, doesn’t it? And our friend over there very much likes what he sees. Put on a good show for him.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, focusing on Gage’s fingers and the slick, swirling motion around my clit before he thrusts into me again.

“Open your eyes.” Gage fucks me with his fingers, in and out, in and out. “Look at him.”

Shuddering, I peer out the open window. The guy in the car is openly staring, his eyes half-lidded, his arm slowly moving up and down. Is he touching himself while I get off? How embarrassing. But it turns me on even more.

“Please,” I whimper. I’m so close. Gage’s fingers are fucking amazing—penetrating and rough, and then soothing and smooth.

The light turns green. I whine in protest. He’s going to stop touching me and I’m going to cry.

“Come.” Gage doesn’t take his fingers away. He doesn’t start driving. “I have you, baby. Come for me now .”

Muscles rigid, I let the orgasm wash over me. Cleansing and crushing and cataclysmic, all at once. I cling to Gage’s forearm, gasping for breath.

A car honks somewhere behind us. Gage reclaims his hand and we take off. The guy in the other car pulls ahead before taking a turn off Caro and disappearing from sight.

“Holy shit,” I whisper.

“Did you like that?” Gage asks.

“Yeah. But what if he, like, hunts us down or something?”

“Don’t worry.” Gage chuckles. “I know him. He’s a regular at Low Vice. You’re safe.”

I stare at him in outrage. I recall him typing something on his phone when we got into the car. He doesn’t seem to like texting, but he might have done it for this. “Did you plan that?”

“Perhaps I did.” He revs the engine and we shoot down the street. “It was beautiful. I have no regrets; do you?”

“No, Sir.”

“Good girl. Now let’s get you home so I can watch you come again.”

* * *

Gage

I have to leave for Los Angeles before Leah wakes in the morning. I jot her a note and put it next to a credit card, telling her to order food and treat herself to something nice.

On the back of my note, I draw a map that will lead her to Angeli’s, a lingerie store located a couple of blocks away. On the map, I don’t reveal the name of the destination. Anticipating her surprise is half the fun.

After leaving the note and card on the kitchen counter, I peek into her bedroom. She insisted on sleeping apart last night. I don’t like it. However, it’s for the best, for now.

The drive to LA goes quickly—I left early enough to beat the worst traffic. Too soon, I arrive at the cathedral, a towering beige stone building surrounded by LA’s ubiquitous palm trees.

I pull into the cathedral parking lot, but I remain in my car. I remove my glasses and use the visor mirror to put in contacts. My face looks strange; I shaved off my beard this morning.

Gage Jannik is gone. Gage Hawthorne is back.

Thankfully, there are no paparazzi waiting outside the cathedral. The time and place for the funeral has been kept private. The attempt at secrecy is futile, however. No doubt by the end, we’ll be dodging cameras and questions. At least there are security guards stationed around the building. If I can see a few, there are certainly more in less conspicuous places.

I find Claudia trying to light a cigarette at the side of the building. Her wavy blond hair is pulled back in a tight, low bun, emphasizing her delicate features. Her dark gray dress is muted enough for a funeral, but designed to showcase her figure.

“Gagey!” She tucks her unlit cigarette and lighter into the matching clutch under her arm. Her hands shake slightly as she hurries toward me. “You came!”

“Of course.” I endure her too-tight hug before gently pulling back so I can peer into her face. Her dark-blue eyes look clear, although pinched in sorrow. She might have disagreed with Javi’s choices over the years, but she’s definitely sad he’s gone.

It’s difficult to discern others’ feelings in Hollywood. While some friends are genuine, many are acting all the time, unable to break out of the personas they’ve created for themselves. It’s a survival mechanism for some—but it makes genuine relationships difficult to nurture.

Claudia has always been real except when it comes to her struggles with addiction.

“I’m clean, Gage.” She waves her hand around like she can swat away my concern. “Other than my prescribed medications.”

I don’t deny my scrutiny. “You look nice. ‘Clean’ is a good look on you.”

“Psh. Flattery will get you everywhere with me.” She peers at the steadily filling parking lot. “We should probably get inside.”

“I’m sitting at the back.”

She beams. “Perfect, so are the rest of the Shinies.”

Unfortunate. “Claudia…”

“It’ll be fine.” Latching her arm in mine, she hustles us to the cathedral entrance.

We check in and show our IDs to security in the foyer, then enter the main part of the cathedral.

I’m not a church-goer, but I appreciate the beauty and calm offered by such an expansive, somber place. Stained-glass windows transform the sunlight into somber kaleidoscopes.

The pews are filling up, and sure enough, we find several former castmates in the back rows. Not only Shinies, but some older AoG actors from Seasons One and Two, and newer actors who came after us.

Todd, who called the other day, offers me a restrained smile. His black hair has threads of gray in it now. Jessica, sitting between him and Nic, doesn’t see me.

But Nic does. Her candy-pink lips part and her hazel eyes crinkle with warmth. I can’t be sure whether her expression is fake or genuine. She’s one of those actors who’s always onstage. She offers me a little wave.

This captures Jessica’s attention, and she turns and waves at me as well. Her natural spirals of dark auburn curls flow down to her shoulders.

My smile for Jessica is genuine as I lift my hand in greeting. I am quick to find a seat at the far end of the pew, using Claudia as a buffer between me and the rest of them.

Now I make use of our sacred setting and pray that the service begins before I have to talk to any of my former friends.

Once the service begins, I pray for it to end.

The priest drones on about Javier Nori’s beautiful, short life. He was a talented actor always trying to improve, as well as a friend to so many, and an honorable, caring confidant.

Several heads in the pew swivel toward me at the mention of Javi’s “honorable” nature. I remain impassive, staring ahead at the priest. I take in the giant cross behind him, the shiny black coffin in front of him. There is only a single, simple arrangement of lilies. Javi’s parents requested donations to his favorite charity instead of flowers.

I’m not unmoved by the funeral—but I’m not crying like Claudia, who has tears streaming down her face.

Afterward, I try to hurry away, but Claudia latches onto my arm. “There are pictures in the side chapel. Let’s go look at them.”

“Claudia…”

“You didn’t come to the wake. The least you can do is look at some photos and remember things with me.” She blinks her deep blue eyes and carefully wipes a tear away so as not to smear her make-up.

“All right.” I worry what she’ll do if left alone, so I follow her to the side chapel. Luckily, the AoG cast remains at the pews in a small clump, chatting together. Going to the side chapel gives me an excuse to escape them. It was probably Claudia’s aim all along. “Are you trying to help me?”

Her impish grin is all the confirmation I need. “I know you don’t want to talk to them. We’ll wait for them to leave before making our escape.”

My heart warms with gratitude and a touch of surprise. It’s rare that Claudia takes care of me instead of the other way around. “Thank you.”

“Of course. And I do want to make sure they don’t have any ugly pictures of me in here.”

“Easily done. There are no ugly pictures of you.”

“Charmer.” She laughs. “Your new girlfriend has had an effect on you.”

I squint at her, surprised again. “I haven’t said anything about a new girlfriend.”

She smiles and plucks a single, long brown hair from my shoulder—one of Leah’s. “You didn’t need to say anything. How long have you been seeing her?”

“Not long.”

“Does she have a name?”

“Leah.”

“Is she in the industry?”

“No.”

Claudia looks like she has a thousand more questions, but I direct her toward the photos. “Look, there’s one of us.”

It’s an image of all six Shinies, taken at a dinner at Harvey Billings’s house. We were in our teens, during the heyday of AoG. Nic and Claudia shine the brightest, but the six of us together are breathtaking, blinding in our attraction. It’s impossible to look away, no matter how much it hurts.

“We look so young.” Claudia touches the picture frame. “And pretty. I forgot how pretty you were back then, Gage.”

“Of course I was pretty back then.” I shake my head at the photograph. “It’s before everything went rotten.”

“Rotten?”

“Yeah, with Billings, and all the glitter and fame.” And Jessica’s cancer diagnosis, Nic cheating on me with Javi, and Claudia’s descent into substance abuse and mental illness.

“It didn’t go rotten,” she says. “There was a dark period, sure. But rotten? No. We struggled. We overcame.”

Her interpretation of the narrative is much more optimistic than mine, so I’ll let her have it without argument. But inside, I know the difference.

“Oh wow, speaking of Harvey.” Claudia’s grip on my arm tightens. “There he is. Motherfucker. Let’s get out of here.”

We walk toward the foyer, where, unfortunately, the rest of the AoG cast has moved.

“Gage!” Jessica stumbles in her haste to reach me.

We embrace.

“Mmm, I’ve missed you.” She squeezes hard before letting me go.

“Hey, stranger,” someone says from behind her.

Suddenly, Nic is hugging me, too. I step back as soon as I can without being rude. People are always watching, and the high drama of a confrontation between Nic and me would be great fodder for the press. Especially if the confrontation takes place at Javi’s funeral.

“It’s been a long time,” Nic murmurs.

I close my eyes and see her face twisted in anger. “You never cared! You only pretended to! Is it any fucking surprise I turned to him?”

Our last in-person conversation. And things only went downhill from there.

“Yes. A long time.” I open my eyes and scan the group, which also includes Todd. I clear my throat. “Jessica, how are you?”

Thankfully, Jessica takes control of the conversation. “I’m doing great. Marguerite is still running. We have one more month.”

“It’s been favorably reviewed.” The musical she wrote has been one of the most popular shows to reach Broadway and beyond. It’s currently showing in LA. “I’m happy for you, and not surprised in the slightest.”

Her brown eyes sparkle. “I would get you tickets, if I thought you’d actually use them.”

I offer her a regretful grin. “I’m only in town for a couple of hours, but thank you, anyway.”

Three news vans have parked on the street near the church, and photographers are gathering outside the parking lot. Every actor recognizes that cue—it’s time to move out.

As our little group starts heading toward the parking lot, Harvey Billings and his daughter, Vanessa, pass us without a word. Billings doesn’t appear as if the past twenty-odd years have touched him. He still has his bulbous nose and dirty-gray goatee. His suit is bespoke, fitting his body well and camouflaging any aspects of his figure that he doesn’t like. Vanity is only one of his many flaws.

Our little group goes silent, other than the crinkle of paper when Todd crumples up the program in his hand.

Claudia clings to my arm, her nails digging into my skin.

After Billings is out of earshot, she whispers, “How can he always look the same, despite everything? It’s like it never happened.”

I make a reassuring sound. “Those are the grossly unfair laws of Hollywood. Enough money and influence, people will move past just about anything.”

A young man steps forward out of the growing crowd. He hurries across the lot, weaving through parked cars. “Mr. Billings! Could I have your autograph?”

Security guards pull the fan away. They don’t let him go until he has disappeared into the swell of people.

Billings doesn’t react; he simply continues walking with his daughter out to the parking lot.

Claudia affects the tone of a bored teenager. “Bro doesn’t even know it, but he dodged a bullet. Harvey is poison. It boggles my mind he didn’t disintegrate into ash as soon as he stepped into the church.”

I don’t need to respond. She knows I agree with her.

When I say goodbye to the others, I hold myself back to avoid more unwanted hugs. I walk Claudia to her tiny sports car, both of us ignoring the paparazzi shouting questions from outside the lot.

While she searches for her keys in her tiny clutch, I ask, “Where are you going next?”

“I’m going to meet the others downtown.”

“A bar?” I ask.

“I promise I won’t overdo it.”

I clench my jaw. I wanted to get in my car and drive straight back to San Esteban. But now I feel compelled to babysit Claudia. “Get in my car instead. I’m driving.”

She claps her hands together and offers me a happy smile. “You’re too good to me, Gage.”