The Fling (23 page)

“I believe you,” Annie said. She took a step closer, walking Oksana back toward a closed storefront. “So are you feeling crowded now?”

“No.”

“How about now?” Annie stepped closer so their bodies were touching.

“Nope.” Oksana’s breath came a little shorter.

“And now?”

“If you don’t stop I’m going to fuck your crowding ass right here on the sidewalk.”

Annie looked at the puddle of runoff beside them. “If there wasn’t a near certainty that we would both get the plague, I would tell you to go for it.” As payback for her joking, Annie kissed Oksana. This time she got a little grabby, sliding her hands up under Oksana’s shirt.

Oksana shuddered. “I’ll take you to the floor when we get home.”

“Sounds like a date.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, hands still together, trying to rein in their physical cravings. When a tall blond guy covered wrist to chin in tattoos came around the corner, Oksana let go.

“Scootie!” Oksana lit up and skipped toward him.

“Hey, girl,” he replied, scooping her up in his arms. This was probably one of the few guys in L.A. who was taller than Oksana, by almost a foot. Scooter was handsome. His hair was spiked up into a stylish faux hawk, and a stubbly brown and blond beard covered his face. There was a huge scar going across his forehead stopping just above his eye.

“What happened?” Oksana asked in the same tone she used with Kat.

“We had to roll a few cars yesterday.”

“Yeah, cars. Not your forehead. Jesus.” Oksana examined the cut further. It did look pretty bad, like it should be stitched up, but something about Scooter told Annie he only went to the ER if a body part was hanging off. At least the gash wasn’t bleeding.

“I’m fine. Neosporin fixes everything,” he said, letting Oksana turn his head the other way. “You want to introduce me to your friend?”

“Annie, this is Scooter. Who loves taking his life into his own hands at every possible opportunity.” Oksana scowled. Annie chuckled at her motherly display.

“Chris ‘Scooter’ Skogstad. Stunt driver for hire.”

“Ah. Explains the busted forehead.”

“And the fucked up knee and back and ankle,” Oksana added.

“Annie Collins, glorified production accountant. It’s nice to meet you.” She held out her hand for Scooter to shake it.

“No. No. None of that shit. Get in here.” Before she could protest, Scooter grabbed Annie’s arm and yanked her into a tight hug. She barely came up to his ribs, he was so tall. She melted into the hug. He smelled nice, and there was something about him that was very familiar, but Annie couldn’t place it.

“Where’s Neil?” Oksana asked when he finally let Annie go. She stepped back to Oksana’s side, warmed all over when she took Annie’s hand again. At least PDA in front of the friends was okay.

“He’s parking.” Scooter pulled a cigarette from behind his ear and lit it.

“Hey, can you do me a favor?” Oksana asked him.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Annie’s garage door is busted. Can you take a look at it?”

“Sure. Carlos has my tools,” he told Annie. “But I’ll get them back and we can figure out a time for me to swing by. Sound good?”

“Uh, yeah,” Annie replied. “Thanks.” A commotion interrupted Scooter before he could reply.

“Bullshit. This is bullshit, man!” A homeless man came darting across the street. Annie had seen him before. A black man in his forties or so. He’d been on the streets a while, but he was functioning.

“Cap’n Stan. What’s got you down, brother?” Scooter said like they were old friends. Maybe they were.

“My man, Scoot.” He gave Scooter a low five then settled in for some conversation with his hands on his hips. Annie snorted quietly to herself, shaking her head when Oksana looked at her. Feather would feed her own hand to a hyena before she touched someone without a lease to his name. “Nothing got me down. Just the same old bullshit. Give me a cigarette.”

Scooter patted his pockets. “I’m out, man. This is my last one.”

“Here.” Annie dug through her bag and pulled out the cigarettes she’d been saving for the crew.

She handed the unopened menthols to Cap’n Stan. “Take the pack.” She felt Oksana’s curious gaze on her. “I get them for our camera guys. A little morale boost.”

“Thanks, pretty lady. I like your style. This your woman, Scoot?”

“Can’t say that she is, Cap’n Stan.” Scooter laughed out a puff of smoke.

“I’m her woman,” Annie said, sidling closer to Oksana.

“Oh ho ho. You gonna let him watch?” Cap’n Stan asked. He was serious.

“Fuck that. Are they going to let me participate?” Scooter joked. Annie hoped. He was handsome, but no.

“No. You fucking pig.” Oksana groaned, slapping Scooter on the shoulder.

“What did this dick do now?” Annie peered around Scooter and Stan and saw…well, a little person coming up the sidewalk.

“Nothing,” Oksana said, rolling her eyes. “Hey, Neil.” She leaned over to give the man a hug. His goatee was neatly trimmed. He was dressed in gray slacks and a light blue polo shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His forearms were covered in tattoos and he had small gold hoops in each ear. Annie was starting to notice a theme.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, patting Oksana’s hip as she straightened up. It was a friendly gesture, but for some reason it made Annie feel like a real outsider. Oksana had years of history with these guys, years of comfort built up. She and Oksana were comfortable with kissing and sleeping together. Still, Annie couldn’t wait until they got to the point where simple touches like a pat on the hip were second nature between them. She couldn’t wait for that kind of history.

Oksana quickly introduced them while Scooter chatted up Cap’n Stan about some weird street gossip. Neil was formal, taking Annie’s hand and politely greeting her with a smile.

“Finally, someone my height,” he said.

“Well, at least I have someone who understands the short jokes.” Annie grinned.

“True. Let’s go,” Neil said, nodding toward the door. “Ron said they already got us a table.”

“Scooter, get me some tacos!” Cap’n Stan called after them.

“We’re gonna be a while.”

“And where you think I’m going? My summer home?”

“Tacos! Coming up.”

Inside the dark restaurant, lit only by neon lights and signs along the walls and around a stage near the back, they followed Neil as he barreled his way across the floor to a large booth right near the stage. A girl around their age was in the middle of an interesting rendition of some Journey song Annie couldn’t remember the name of.

Annie recognized Noelle immediately. She was wearing a Princeton lacrosse sweatshirt, sitting next to a gorgeous Latin woman in a white v-neck who Annie vaguely remembered as Ronnie. A hoop ran through the middle of her bottom lip, and she had a diamond Monroe piercing in her cheek, one Annie had actually considered once upon a time. She was glad she’d trusted Oksana on the wardrobe choice. The dress she’d had in mind might have been a little much. Ronnie’s right arm was ink free, but the left arm had bright, intricate designs down to her hand. Annie was really starting to feel left out.

Noelle jumped up and hugged everyone, saving Annie for last. “I’m so glad you came. Your hair looks awesome.”

“Thanks. Kat did it.”

“Turn around,” Ronnie instructed her. Annie did as she asked, bending her neck to give a full view of the style. “Kat’s getting good,” she said to Oksana.

“I know. She might not need your help,” she replied.

“Everyone needs my help. Annie, it’s nice to meet you officially.”

“Likewise. Sorry about our first meeting.”

“Don’t worry about it. Looks like things have worked out just fine.”

The waitress came back to the table and they all ordered. Annie followed Oksana’s recommendations and they decided to split a little bit of everything on the basic menu. A bunch of tacos and a burrito stuffed with Korean barbecued beef and Asian spices, with plenty to cover Megan when she showed up. Scooter filled them in on all the details of the cut on his head and the actors he’d taken the beating for.

Just as Annie took her first sip from her Coke, Noelle turned to her.

“So…” She nearly bounced in her seat. Annie was starting to like her and her energy. “Tell us about you.”

Well, I’m engaged to this guy, but I’m falling for your friend.
“I am a line producer for Blink Media.” Annie told them about the three shows that kept her busy, without boring them to death with the mundane details.

“Meta gave our receptionist crabs,” Ronnie said bluntly.

Annie’s mouth dropped open. “And you expect me not to tell my whole crew, why?”

“I like her,” Noelle said to Oksana who just smiled.

Ronnie kept on. “No, please. Tell everyone. Shit, tell Meta. She wouldn’t take poor Cheyenne’s phone calls for a month. Anyone on your crew hook up with her?”

“I don’t think so, but ew. Thanks for the heads-up.” Annie laughed, silently reminding herself to have a conversation with Sergio first thing in the morning. Nothing fucks up the chemistry between a crew like crabs.

The food and beers came quickly and they all dug in, table manners tossed to the side.

“So, Scooter,” Annie asked after her second taco. “Oksana says there’s a great love story between you and Neil. Can I hear it?”

“Dickhead farted on my face.” Neil took a casual sip of his beer just as she choked on her soda.

“Excuse me?”

“Few years ago I was at Coachella, and from behind, Neil looks just like my buddy Little Fred,” Scooter explained.

“This piece of shit runs up to me, spins me around, blams one right on my forehead.”

“Yes, I know two black midgets.” Clearly, Scooter and Neil were past being PC with each other.

“This is how you treat Little Fred?” Annie asked with a grin.

“Fred is an asshole.” Scooter smiled back.

“What did you do?” she asked Neil.

“I punched him in the dick and then when he fell over I started beating the fuck out of him.”

“Once he stopped kicking me, I told him who I thought he was. He actually knows Little Fred and how much of an asshole he is. We’ve been boys ever since,” Scooter finished.

Annie couldn’t help but laugh. “That is sweet.” Beside her, Oksana slid her free hand into Annie’s lap. Annie turned to her. Amid the chatter and the music and the general noise, everything faded away.

Annie slid closer and kissed her on the cheek. “Hi.”

“Hi. Are you having fun?” Oksana asked just for the two of them to hear.

“I am.”

“Of course she is. Scoot, go sing,” Noelle said.

“Annie, you karaoke?” he asked.

“Not unless she’s wasted.” Annie turned around to find Megan walking up to the booth.

“Hey. Guys, this is my friend Megan.”

“Sorry. David needed me to tie his shoes,” she said.

“Your boss?” Ronnie asked. She quickly introduced herself and Noelle.

“Yup. I can’t wait to press him for a raise.” Megan continued with the hand-shaking rounds, taking care to be extra polite to Oksana, which Annie appreciated. Annie also noticed that Megan did a double take when she got to Scooter. She’d seen that look before. Megan was interested.
Scooter’s
eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head when Megan slid into the booth directly across from him and ordered a whiskey neat. Annie looked to Oksana to see if she’d noticed their fireworks. Oksana nodded back.

“What did I miss?” Megan asked.

“Scooter, I thought you were going to go sing,” Noelle said.

“I will. I’m just getting to know our new friends here.”

“I’ll be here all night, Scoot,” Megan said as she thanked the waitress for her drink. “Why don’t you treat us to a song?”

“Ladies, if you’ll excuse us.” Scooter slid out of the booth after Neil. “You are in for a bit of a show.”

“You’re in for it all right. They usually close the place. The owner loves it,” Oksana told them. Scooter and Neil walked over to the bar. Neil hoisted himself up on a stool and ordered a bottle—not a shot—but a bottle of Patrón. They waited, passing the bottle between them as an older Asian gentlemen started in on a frighteningly on-key version of Whitney Houston’s “Shoop Shoop” song from
Waiting to Exhale
. At the table, Megan settled in and caught Oksana and the other women up on her work life. She asked Oksana all she could about herself without being too forward or pushy. Annie paid for her next drink.

“Oh, Sana, I forgot to tell you. I sold the last painting from my March show,” Noelle broke in.

“You did? That’s awesome. Noelle’s an artist,” Oksana told Annie and Megan.

“Really? Would I have seen your work?” Annie knew jackshit about painting; that was Jeff’s thing, but she knew when she liked a piece of art. He was always dragging her to openings and shows. She pretended to be interested in the pompous talk until Jeff forgot she was there. Then she would wander around to look for pieces she liked. She’d never purchased; that was also Jeff’s thing, but she did end up falling in love with a work or two along the way.