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I made my way to Hawks Public House, close to where I lived, and planted myself at the bar, indulging in the best fried chicken I’d ever had outside of one time in Nashville. I knew the bartender, Jerry, made a stellar Old Fashioned and always had fun stories to tell. A woman who looked to be in her thirties with short, red hair sat beside me at the bar. I sensed her eyes on my profile, and when she engaged the bartender with a loud voice, as if to make sure I would hear her, she went on about how much she loved the Sacramento Condors. Damn, I knew I needed to offer her a smile and acknowledge what she already knew, that I was the quarterback for the Condors, but I was in no mood. She was fishing for a conversation and I wasn’t sure what else... A few minutes, please, I thought, a few minutes to just sit here devouring this delicious chicken, drinking my Old Fashioned, unscripted in social interactions as Jake Skyler, the Austin Texas boy, not the Sacramento Condors’ quarterback, Super Bowl winner.
The redhead ordered another drink and chatted in a voice that seemed to spike at the end of every sentence. She let it slip again above normal conversation level that her niece—her beautiful twenty-two-year-old niece—was so excited to have made it onto the cheer squad for the Condors, and that her beautiful, brilliant, sweet, wholesome niece, couldn’t wait to meet Jake Skyler.
My eyes flicked up to the bartender; he returned my mildly irritated look by wiggling his eyebrows as if to say, here we go. He fought back a smirk, then finally said, “Well, you’re in luck. Jake Skyler is sitting right next to you.”
Rotating her head in my direction, she gasped in mock surprise. It was so comical that I had to suck in a snort of laughter. “Oh, wow, I can’t wait to tell her,” she exclaimed. “Can I get a picture with you?”
“I’m a little grungy,” I muttered, a slight plea in my voice as I tipped the beak of my baseball cap down a bit, letting her know in a polite way that I was sort of trying to hide.
“Please, she’ll be so excited,” she urged, and I could tell she wasn’t going to back down, would probably snap a picture anyway and post, he’s cute but stuck up. There really wasn’t any winning in the social media game once people started to recognize you.
I gave her a reticent nod, all I could muster, before asking Jerry if he could pack up the rest of the chicken. He twisted his mouth in response. Jerry got it, nodding. “We can do another Old Fashioned to go, bud. On me.”
The redhead handed Jerry her phone and leaned into my side, then reached up and pinched my Texas Rangers baseball cap bill. “This needs to come off. You’re in California, and I want my niece to see that it’s really you.” Before I could react, she’d snatched the cap off my head. I raked my fingers through my hair, giving a smile half-heartedly to the phone camera. “One more,” she cooed, clutching her arm around my shoulder, shimmying into my side.
I stared at the crown molding on my living room ceiling, then at my drink, before focusing on my phone, willing it to ring. I’d been imagining her telling me how utterly unimpressed she was by Bernardo. I knew the B.S. I was feeding myself. The day had been one of frenzied attempts at distraction, from home décor to watching film from The Scouting Combine. I was blown away by the talent of a promising wide receiver draftee named Jaxton from LSU. From an athletic perspective, he’d be an asset. However, he was a psychological mess, and we had to weigh whether the risk was worth the potential reward. Dwayne would be his mentor, and I kept thinking it may not be fair to dump that on him. It’s hard to take on someone else’s pain, and it didn’t sound like Jaxton had gotten help dealing with his issues. I texted Rakell, not wanting to start off this relationship playing games.
Jake (10:00 pm): Hey, checking in…Send
Jake (10:14 pm): Just wondering about dinner…Send
Jake (11:45 pm): I’m still awake…call when you get home…Send
I left the phone on the bathroom counter and took a quick shower, prepared to jump out when she called. But it would be another hour before my phone rang. I sat up in bed, grabbing the phone off my nightstand. “Hey, I was…well, missing you,” I said, clearing my throat, replacing the words that were sitting on my tongue. You’ve been with him this whole time?
“Good to hear your voice,” she said, sounding legitimately grateful. “Just a second, connecting my earpiece.” I heard distraction creep into her voice, like someone else was in the room.
“Everything okay?” I asked when I heard the phone click.
“Yes,” she said barely above a whisper, then continued. “Just had an odd conversation with Vee, my new roommate. I told you about her.”
“Why are you whispering? Is she right there?” I tried to swallow the irritation in my voice. It was almost midnight, leaving me wondering what the hell was going on all night.
“Sorry, this place is super small…maybe, but she’s well, I think she’s taking a shower. The nice thing about this apartment is we each have our own bathroom.”
“Fine,” I said, then exhaled, “but I’m more interested in dinner and…”
“The restaurant was amazing. It’s beautiful. I think you would love it. I'm definitely going to bring you there sometime.”
I didn’t really give a damn about the fucking restaurant, but I tried to sound like I appreciated her thinking about me. “Aww, I’d love that.” My breathing became more rhythmic, hearing the sincerity in her voice. “So tell me about the audition, dinner, meeting everyone…and…”
“Well, I’m not sure how I did. Ana told me to wear something youthful but still sexy. I'm not sure I hit the mark on that.”
The muscles in my jaw flinched, my body tensing. “Of course you did. That’s how you naturally look; there’s no stretching there, Sweets.”
“Well, tonight felt…I don’t know, as if the other actresses and I were all supposed to be in awe of the great Bernardo. I mean, he’s remarkable, but I don’t do great at that reverence thing, unless I’m being paid or someone has earned it.”
I winced at paid. Damn, I wanted to let her know to watch out for Bernardo, but if I said something right now, it would seem self-serving. Shit, holding my tongue was hard, completely at odds with how I usually did things. “Wait, so…for starters, he has nothing on you?”
“Jake, please, you do know he’s sort of a god in this industry…and I guess if I thought about it, showing a little more reverence could land me a roll. I wish sucking up to people didn’t piss me off inside so much. I mean, it is part of being in this industry. I suppose ass-kissing is a part of getting ahead in a lot of businesses.”
“Yep, I guess that’s true,” I said, covering the phone and whisper-yelling, “Fuck!”
“The other two being considered seemed…I don’t know, maybe more in awe. Not sure I pulled that off well. Ana says it will come down to who Bernardo feels embodies the role and will generate the right chemistry with him on screen.”
His name, paired with the word chemistry, made my shoulders inch up to my neck, though I was picking up on a tone in her words that allowed me to breathe just a bit lighter. “Well, wouldn’t you be too young to play his love interest?”
“Wait, what…you know that I’m in L.A., right?” I heard her teasing giggle, but I wasn’t in the mood to find that funny. Hell, when it came to Bernardo and Rakell, I would never relax. How the hell was I going to do this if she actually got the part?
