Sharing Space (The Complete Series) (37 page)

“Mmmm. I really wish you were coming with me.”

“It’s just two days.”

“Yeah. Okay. I’m gonna get downstairs and have dinner with my folks. A car is coming to take me to the airport early.”

“Call me when you land?”

“No. I’m calling you when I wake up. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Over dinner, my mother tried to be positive about my trip, but her anxiety over my leaving made it nearly impossible. We’d all become used to it. Since Charlotte’s death she found it hard to find happiness in anything.

“Four months is a long time,” she said, twisting her dinner napkin in her hands.

“That’s if I even get the part, Ma. And there’s a small break in there as well.” I took a sip from my water glass and looked to my dad for support.

“It’ll be good for his career, honey. And I’m sure he’ll make it up to you with a nice long stay when filming is done.”

That, unfortunately, was the level of support I’d come to expect from my dad, but I couldn’t be too angry with him. We all coddled my mother, even through our own grief. She was never left in the house alone and we’d all taken turns sleeping over, much to the annoyance of my brothers’ wives. What else could we do? How do you not give a woman who’d lost her youngest daughter everything she needs to feel better?

***

The secrecy surrounding the audition and the entire project was epic; I didn’t even know the real title of the mini-series. Instead, it was referred to by a codename:
Rockstar.
All I knew about the role was the guy was in a band trying to make it. I read for the producer Tim, an older, balding man in a very expensive suit, and George Clooney, who, despite his megastar status, was the most laid back person in the room. A production assistant played the part of the other person in the scene. We read through it twice before I was told I could go back to the posh hotel suite they’d reserved for me. After two hours, I got a call from Tim’s assistant that he wanted to see me in his office. I was in my seat for approximately four seconds before he got to the point.

“Patrick, I’m not gonna waste your time.”

I blew out a breath, disappointed. He continued.

“We think you’re the right guy for the role. George wanted to be here to tell you himself, but he had to catch a flight to Italy. You’re stuck with me.”

“That’s… that’s… okay. I mean, thank you! This is unreal.” I smiled like a fool.

“We’d normally contact your representation first, but we flew you out here and it just seemed like the right thing to do.”

“Cat will not be happy that she didn’t get to tell me herself, but she’ll get over it. Maybe.”

The next twenty-four hours were a blur of information. The mini-series, titled
Backstage Pass,
followed the rise and fall of a rock band through three decades. My character, the bass player, has one of the more significant arcs in the movie, struggling with an alcohol addiction that worsens as the band’s popularity rises. They were still casting a lot of the major roles, but I was assured we’d be ready to roll in April. While Cat handled the contracts I flew home, still not quite sure everything was real.

***

A month later I was wrapping up a major storyline on
Shining Moments
and had still managed to memorize most of my lines for
Backstage Pass.
I learned that Jay Robeson, my
Moments
producer, was a good friend of Tim Minor’s. I assumed it was that connection which got me the invitation to read for the part. I made sure to thank him for allowing me flexibility to work on the movie.

Filming
Moments
while trying to memorize additional lines made for long days and even longer nights. Still, I made sure to be on my game when Cat called to tell me she and Tim wanted to meet for dinner. He was only in New York for a short time so I had to make myself available in the one small window he had open. That’s how I found myself sitting in an Upper West Side members-only supper club after spending twelve hours on set.

“How are you liking the script? Any problems?” Tim asked.

It was only our second meeting, but it was clear Tim was a get-down-to-business kind of guy. Made sense, considering his time and attention were always in demand.

“No. No problems at all. It’s a lot deeper than I expected, but I’m up for the challenge,” I said.

Cat had already warned me that confidence, even if you didn’t always feel it, went a long way in this business. She nodded her approval and took a sip from her water glass before speaking. “We’re going to set you up with a trainer who’ll work with you for the next few weeks leading up to the first block of shooting.”

“A trainer?”

“Not that kind of trainer. I know you have that covered. Someone to help you learn how to play a bass or, at the very least, look like you know how to play one.”

I felt like such an idiot. It hadn’t even occurred to me that I’d be acting like a musician without a lick of musical knowledge. I nodded appreciatively.

“We also have some casting news. Ian Somerhalder has signed on to play Brett,” Tim said.

“Wow. That’s great.” I meant it. Ian was a popular actor with two major television shows under his belt:
LOST
and The
Vampire Diaries.
It made sense he’d be cast in the lead role. The entire band was supposed to be made up of guys with boy-band good looks and it plays a part in them not being taken seriously when they first start out. From Brett’s description in the script, Ian would be perfect.

Over dinner we talked more about scheduling and accommodations while filming in Los Angeles. The studio would be putting all of the talent in an expensive hotel close to the set. I couldn’t believe my life had gone from sharing a dressing room to having my own fancy suite for four months while I worked on a movie for a major cable network. I still resisted the urge to pinch myself. After we’d eaten Tim ordered a round of drinks for all of us without asking if anyone wanted it or not.

Tim leaned back in his chair and said, “There’s one last thing we need to talk to you about, Patrick. Your girlfriend.”

Helping Crystal and Uncle Troy with the restaurant was taking up more of my time than I’d anticipated, but I didn’t mind. My uncle’s retirement was long overdue and I wanted to do everything I could to make sure it happened smoothly. Of course, the downside was that between helping, work, Patrick’s shooting schedule, and his music training sessions, we rarely saw each other. It didn’t help that his mother still required at least one night a week of his time.

It was our last night together before he left for Los Angeles, so I made sure to leave work early and prepare dinner for the two of us at home. While a pan of lasagna baked in the oven, I spoke to my mother on speakerphone and chopped the ingredients for a salad.

“He leaves tomorrow?”

“Day after that,” I replied, slicing a cucumber. “His mother wants him to stay over with her tomorrow night.”

It’s like my mother heard my eye roll through the phone. “And that bothers you?”

“No. Yes. I know it shouldn’t, but it kinda does. I want her to have whatever she needs to help her heal. I do. But I also know that based on her visit she’s also getting what she wanted: Patrick away from me. I’m a horrible person, right?”

“Chloe, you already know that you’re not a horrible person. And neither is she—”

“But—”

“Let me finish. You’re always going to worry about your children, even when they’re grown. And she’s right that it’s not always going to be easy for the two of you. You will come across people who look at you like you don’t belong together, if you haven’t already.” I thought about the woman in the supermarket a month ago, but didn’t say anything. “And you may even come across an ignorant fool who’ll open his mouth to share his opinion. The part his mother is forgetting is that above all else, you want your children to be happy. That doesn’t make her horrible, just misguided. Remember, parenting doesn’t come with a rulebook.”

My mother had good points, but I still wasn’t in the mood to hear it. I changed the subject to the restaurant while I rinsed and then shredded carrots into the salad bowl. “Michael has already lined up two local musicians who will play in the restaurant on alternating Saturdays. The new kitchen appliances are going to be installed next week. They’ll have to be closed for a day, which Uncle Troy isn’t too thrilled with, as you can imagine.”

My mother chuckled. “I’m sure he isn’t. How is he taking to entering the digital age?”

“We’ve explained our plans for Foursquare and giving discounts to people who check-in for the first time, rewarding the location mayor with a free dessert whenever they dine. Then for Instagram and Foodspotting we’ll start using a special HSH hashtag to encourage photos of the dishes. I’m going to help Crystal manage their Facebook page, posting specials, sharing photos, that kind of thing. Over the summer she’ll bring on some part-time help, probably a high school kid from the church, who can assist with that stuff. Anyway, Uncle Troy just did a lot of grunting and shaking his head. He said he’s just happy he won’t have to deal with all that ‘internet nonsense.’”

She laughed again. “That sounds about right. I’m really proud of you, Chloe, helping out your uncle this way.”

“I’m just glad he’s listening. Finally.” I glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Ma, I gotta go. I want to straighten up before Patrick gets home.”

“Okay, sweetie. Talk soon.”

***

“Leave them.” Patrick stood behind me while I placed our dinner dishes in the sink. He kissed the back of my neck and l leaned into him. “It’s our last night together,” he said, “the dishes can wait.”

Lights dimmed, candles lit, we snuggled on the sofa and I tried hard to remember every bit of how it felt to be in his arms.

“Sixteen weeks.” I said wistfully.

He kissed the top of my head. “Four months. Sounds better. Plus, you’re going to come out and visit for your birthday.”

“It’s still going to feel like forever. We should probably start making up for loss time now, you know.” I ran my hand under his shirt and felt his muscles tense under my touch. I planted kisses where my fingers had just been, going lower. He groaned and cupped the back of my head.

“Wait. Chloe, wait.” I ignored him and started to unbutton his jeans. “Seriously. I’m going to regret this, probably, but hold on, babe. We need to talk about a few things before I go.”

I sighed and sat up. “Fine. If you’d rather talk—”

“No, trust me,” he said, sitting up as well. “I’d rather not, but we need to. It’s important. I just didn’t plan to have this conversation like this.” He waved his hands towards the lit candles on the coffee table.

“Okay. You’re scaring me.” I reached over and turned on the lamp on the end table. “What is it?”

“Well, you know I’ll be making a lot of money on this project.”

I nodded. We hadn’t discussed his salary at all, not what he made on the show or how much he’d make on the movie. I’m not stupid. I knew he’d been making more money than he’d made working at the gym, but his finances were his business, just like my finances were mine.

“While I’m gone I want to cover the full rent each month.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I can afford to and I want to.” He reached out and held my hand.

“I don’t need you to take care of me, Patrick.” I wasn’t angry, just slightly embarrassed. “Does it seem like I need you to?”

“Not at all. I know it sounds old-fashioned, but I want to take care of you. I’m going to worry about you while I’m gone and don’t even say anything. I’m going to worry. That’s just the way it is, but this is one thing I can do to make me feel better about being gone. Purely selfish, I know. Will you let me? Please?”

“If I say yes, can we have sex now?” I wasn’t exactly thrilled at letting him pay the rent for a few months, but in the grand scheme of things, it felt like a small thing to ask. All I could think of at that moment was being without him for long periods of time.

I thought my question would make him laugh, at least smile, but his face was full of trepidation. “There’s one more thing. You know I met with Tim and Cat a few weeks ago, right?” I nodded again. “Well, they’re going to have someone from
Entertainment Weekly
onset, doing a behind-the-scenes feature that will run when the movie is about to premiere.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll be doing a lot of stuff like that and I’m not sure what’s going to air now or later, so I thought I should just tell you now.”

“Tell me what?”

“They think it will be best for my image and the film if people, the fans, think I’m single.”

“So, what does that mean? You’ll just refuse to talk about your personal life?”

“Part of what they’re selling with this story is the heartthrob angle. They’ve already got these ridiculous photo shoots lined up.” He took a deep breath. “They want me to flat out say that I don’t have a girlfriend.”

I snatched my hand away. “And what did you tell them?” I hated the way my voice cracked. I sounded pathetic, but Patrick looked worse and I had my answer.

“So, let me get this straight. You want to lie about me? About being with me? About loving me?”

“I don’t want to, but this is how things are done on this level. They’re not just selling the movie, but the whole package. There’s a publicity machine behind this that’s calculated and it’s all geared towards making the movie as successful as possible. A big part of that is making us, the stars, as attractive as possible.”

“Who are you right now?” I stood up. “
On this level, publicity machine?
What does that even mean?”

He looked up at me, a pitiful look on his face. “I’m just trying to explain it to you like it was explained to me.”

“And so what? Did you offer to pay the rent as a way to butter me up before admitting that you’re going to spend the next few months being ashamed of me?”

“I’m not ashamed of you.” He stood and took my hand again. I was too in shock to let go. “Chloe, this isn’t about you. It’s just the way it works. I’m not happy about it.”

“How can you say it’s not about me? You’re denying that I even exist, and if you’re not happy about it, don’t do it.”

“It’s not that simple. This is a big opportunity and I have to play the game.”

I dropped his hand and walked around the coffee table. “Well, I don’t.” Angry tears threatened to spill, which made me even madder. “Is this because I’m black?”

Patrick’s mouth dropped open. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Um, are you seriously telling me that you’re going to let everyone think I don’t exist?”

He sighed deeply and ran a hand over his face. “Chloe, even if you were white this is what they want me to do. They don’t even know that you’re black. It never came up. This is just a stupid publicity stunt.”

“At least you have the good sense to know it’s stupid. I knew you were ambitious, but this is ridiculous.”

“Hey, I’ve worked hard for this!”

“No one said you didn’t, but I think it’s pretty shitty now that you’ve
made it
you’re willing to do something so… hurtful.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you. God, this is not coming out right. It’s
because
it’s stupid,
because
it’s silly, that I think it’s not that big of a deal.”

I rolled my eyes and pointed at him. “Now you’re just lying. If you didn’t think this was a big deal why didn’t you tell me weeks ago? Why did you look so damn scared to tell me now? How would you feel if I said to you that I had to lie about us to the people I work with? To anyone?”

“That’s a ridiculous comparison. This is show business. It’s the way—”

“Seriously, if you say it’s the way it works one more time. Don’t talk down to me. I get why they want you to do it; I’m pissed that you’re willing to do it. What am I supposed to do when I come out there for my birthday? Huh? Enter through the back door? Stay hidden?”

“No! It won’t be like that. We’ll have to be discreet, yeah, but—”

“I don’t believe you just said that.”

“This is important to me, Chloe. Getting this right is important to me.”

I blinked and let the tears fall. “I thought I was important to you.”

“You are!”

“Apparently, not important enough.”

“Please, don’t be this way.” He walked around the table and pulled me into his arms. I kept mine folded. “I don’t want this to be a thing. To come between us.”

“Then don’t do it.”

He pulled back and rested his forehead against mine. “Chloe, I have to. I already told them I would.”

I sniffed and pulled away completely, wiping my tears on my sleeve. “Well, we don’t want to make a liar out of you. I’ll make it easy. You no longer have a girlfriend.”

My hotel suite had a panoramic view of the Hollywood hills, a living room area that was almost as big as our apartment in New York, a bathroom with a heated marble floor, and a California King-sized bed that was made of clouds. There was a bouquet of fresh flowers and an expensive bottle of champagne from Mr. Clooney waiting in my suite.

Welcome to the big time. – G.

All of it meant nothing. 

I’d been calling Chloe since I left for California and she wouldn’t take my calls. I was where I thought I always wanted to be, surrounded by opulence, and I just wanted to go home. Not that I thought she’d want to look at my face around the apartment if I could go back. After she’d told me we were over she went to her room and locked the door. The last words she’d said to me were, “This is for the best.”