With His Protection (For His Pleasure, Book 15) (12 page)

He raised his eyebrows. “Can you cook?”

“I’ll have you know I’m a great cook.”

“Okay, okay. I wasn’t doubting you, just asking a question.”

She stood up, glad to have a mission now. “Let me see what there is to work with around here.” She went and checked the temperature in the refrigerator, and it seemed as though it had stayed cold enough. However, there wasn’t much of use in there. But when she checked the freezer, she found some frozen steaks. “How old are these?” she asked him.

Bryson stood up to get a better look. “Oh, those. I got them a few days ago but I never got around to using them. I forgot they were even in there.”

“Perfect,” she smiled. Scarlett put the steaks on the countertop, and then she moved to the pantry. The pantry was a little empty, so she grabbed the backpack they’d taken from the convenience store. Inside, she found some rice and corn.

A few minutes later, she was defrosting the meat and chopping a yellow onion, finely. Putting the onions in a pan with some olive oil, Scarlett began slowly sautéing them over low heat.

Bryson went back to work on his screenplay while she cooked.

It was funny, Scarlett thought, as she went about preparing the meal. Somehow this all was so natural. Being there with Bryson while he went about his business, cooking and humming softly to herself, she knew that this was where she belonged.

Immediately after she allowed herself to appreciate the moment, Scarlett was jolted by an intense pang of fear in her stomach.

I’m falling in love with him, and what if he changes his mind about me? What if
he turns around and leaves me?

The thought of it shook her deeply. But she told herself that if she ventured nothing, she stood to gain nothing. Sure, she might get hurt in the future, but on the other hand, she might actually end up finding happiness for once in her life.

That seemed to settle her nerves momentarily. She brought herself back to the present moment, where everything was still fine. In fact, everything was better than fine.

She added spices to the steaks (garlic, pepper, salt), and then put them in the skillet to let them brown.

Bryson looked up from his laptop. “That smells incredible.”

“Thanks. I hope you like it,” she said.

“I know I will. Besides, I’m so hungry. Mostly all I’ve eaten lately is take out and fast food. I haven’t had a real home-cooked meal in forever.”

That made her happy to hear. She wanted to show him her love in a tangible way.

She wanted him to eat and know that she’d made it for him, that she was doing all of this for him.

A little while later, the food was ready, and she brought it all out to the table, setting the plates down—one at the head of the table, the other next to it.

Bryson stood up, rubbing his eyes. “I need a break anyway. I’m at the point with the script where everything is just blending together now. Half the time I can’t remember which details I’ve changed, which draft I’m on, and whether anything I’m writing is making a difference.”

“I’m sure you’re doing fine,” she said, sitting down.

Bryson sat down next to her. “Wow, this looks amazing.”

Scarlett picked up her fork and knife, but she waited to see what Bryson thought of the meal before she took her first bite.

He was chewing his first piece of steak and his eyes closed. “Wow,” he murmured.

“It’s okay?”

He looked at her seriously. “This might be thing I’ve ever eaten in my life.”

“Let’s not go too far,” she smiled, her cheeks getting hot.

“You’re a great cook. I’ve been to a few great steakhouses and I would choose this over every one of them.” He began eating more ravenously now, and Scarlett found that she was hungry as well.

Everything was feeling perfect, cozy and warm and exactly how Scarlett had hoped it could be. But then something happened that changed everything.

Bryson’s cell phone rang for the first time in a long while.

They both looked at one another, and something passed between them. Maybe it was just an unspoken acknowledgment that they couldn’t keep the world from intruding on them forever.

“I should see who it is,” he said, by way of apology.

“Of course.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin as he got up from the table and went to grab his cell phone from the couch, where he’d left it while working on his computer.

Bryson stared at the cell phone as it continued ringing. He glanced up at her, and his expression was one of anxiety and uncertainty. “Crap,” was all he said.

“Who is it?”

He licked his lips. “You don’t want to know.”

Suddenly it hit her. “It’s Eliza.”

“I won’t answer it if you don’t want me to.”

Scarlett felt sick. She couldn’t believe this was happening right now. “It’s not about what I want you to do, Bryson. Talk to her if you want to talk to her.”

The cell was still ringing obnoxiously. It must have been the longest she’d ever heard a phone ring without voicemail picking up.

“I don’t want to talk to her, Scarlett. But it’s my job.”

“It’s your job to talk to actresses when you’re not even at work?”

“This isn’t some nine-to-five gig. I’m always working, as far as these people are concerned.”

“I already told you to go ahead and answer if you want. So don’t try and convince me of something—it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself, actually.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Bryson said, and at that very second, the phone ceased its ringing.

The two of them looked at one another. Scarlett was dreading what came next.

She just knew that if he picked up his phone and called Eliza back, that the whole thing would be over. Bryson would be essentially telling Scarlett that all of his promises were lies, and that he was more concerned about the feelings of some spoiled actress than he was about the feelings of the woman who’d supposedly changed his life.

Did he really even mean all those things he told me? Or did he simply say them in
the heat of passion?

Bryson seemed to be asking himself the same questions. He sighed deeply, looked at his phone for a long moment, and then put it back in his pocket.

“You can call her if you want,” Scarlett said. “I don’t want to stop you from doing what you need to do.”

“No, it’s fine.” He looked down. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Are you sure?” Scarlett looked at him, trying to read his expression, but he was impassive.

“It’s fine. Really.” He finally broke into a light smile. “I might even be relieved if I got fired, to tell you the truth.”

“Who said anything about getting fired?”

“Nobody. It’s just that Eliza and Dale both have a lot more pull than I do. If one of them decided they didn’t like me for some reason, they could have me thrown off the set in about five seconds.” He paused and thought. “Make that one second.”

“You think she’d do that just because you didn’t answer your phone one time?”

“I don’t think so. But—“ he waved his own thought away.

“No, tell me what you were going to say.”

“I was going to say, it’s not just about this one phone call. What if she keeps trying to contact me—keeps wanting my help? What am I supposed to do?”

Scarlett put a hand to her head. She hadn’t really thought about how complicated this situation could get. In her mind, it was black and white. But as she looked at it from Bryson’s point of view, she was starting to see that the choices weren’t so clear. “I don’t know. Maybe just take it one step at a time. Maybe she’ll move on to somebody else.

I’m sure she has other people in her life that she can annoy and torment.”

Bryson laughed. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Or you can call her back. Do what you need to do. Don’t let me stand in your way.”

“You’re not in my way, babe.” Bryson got up and walked over to her, then. He wrapped his strong arms around her.

She was instantly relieved. Maybe he really did mean all of the things he said, Scarlett thought.

And he called you babe. That’s the kind of thing you say to someone you’re in a
relationship with, no doubt about it.

“Are you okay, though? Please tell me if you’re not,” she said, as he kissed her forehead and pulled back with a smile, looking at her.

“I’m better than okay,” he replied. “Now, let’s finish eating. I refuse to let that crazy broad ruin the rest of our night.”

They sat back down to eat, and when the phone made the distinct sound of a voicemail message having been left on it, they both pretended not to hear it.

***

The rest of the night was as good, if not better than that which had preceded it.

After dinner, Bryson cleaned up, while Scarlett took a much-needed bath. The cut on her cheek was small and looked almost like a scratch once she washed the dried blood from her face. She changed into her last outfit and came out of the bathroom to find Bryson on his computer again, continuing his work on the script.

He sure doesn’t look like a guy who thinks he’s out of a job, she thought.

Then she wondered if he’d listened to the voicemail while she was in the bathroom.

So what if he did? He has to listen, it’s his job. Bryson did what you wanted him
to do—he chose you. Stop second guessing everything!

It was hard to do, but Scarlett forced herself not to worry about Eliza Johnston or the phone call. She decided it was time to enjoy being with Bryson and worry about the complications another time.

Once she made that decision, everything got easier.

She curled up again on the couch and started reading again, while Bryson worked away nearby. At one point, he turned and asked her about a line of dialog. “Do you think she’d really say that?” he asked Scarlett.

Scarlett put her book down and walked over to where he was sitting. She read what he had up on the screen, debating whether to just tell him it sounded great, or to be honest and give her real opinion. Ultimately, honesty won out.

“No, I don’t think she’d say that,” Scarlett admitted.

Bryson sighed with frustration. “I’m so fried.”

“I think she should show her attraction to him with an action. Like, maybe she starts trying to take his car keys away from him and they wrestle a little bit. You know, make it more fun and flirty and visual.”

Bryson stared at the screen, stroking his chin. “You know, that’s not a bad idea.

This scene is way too dialog heavy as it is.” He started typing furiously. “Thanks, babe.”

Scarlett flushed, smiling to herself as she walked away. He’d said the b-word again. And it felt real, and good.

Settling back down on the couch, she wondered if this was a glimpse into their future together—perhaps a future that wasn’t really so far away as she’d once thought…

Bryson continued to write for another hour or so, and then he got up and declared he was ready for bed. Scarlett was exhausted as well, and the two of them went to his room together, without any question of who was sleeping where.

This was different, Scarlett decided. There wasn’t as much of a strong sexual energy between them right at this moment, but there was something just as good in its place. Now it felt like they were truly becoming partners, friends, lovers. Listening to Bryson move around his room, readying himself for bed, she had the sense that their relationship had truly begun.

***

The phone woke both of them up. It was Bryson’s cell phone ringing.

Scarlett came out of a sleep so deep that it seemed like no time whatsoever had passed since she shut her eyes. But actually it was just after nine in the morning already, so they’d both been sleeping for a very long time.

Bryson groaned and groped for his phone. He didn’t appear to recognize the number, but answered anyway, his voice croaking a hello.

Scarlett sat up in bed, wiping the sleep from her eyes. She suddenly had an ominous, horrible feeling inside and she didn’t know why.

“This is Bryson Taylor, who is this?” Bryson said into the phone. He quieted.

“Yes, I know her. Is something the matter?”

Bryson’s voice had taken on an urgency and tension that was startling, and his whole body language changed. His shoulders were hunched, his body seemed coiled like a live wire. “Is she okay? Is she alive?”

Those words shook Scarlett to her very core. Who was he talking about? What was going on?

Bryson stood up. “What hospital?” He began putting on his pants as he held the phone against his shoulder. “Thank you. Yes, yes. Thank you very much.”

A moment later he was off the phone. He pulled a t-shirt on over his head, his movements were efficient and robotic.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Scarlett asked, terrified of the answer.

Bryson couldn’t look at her as he spoke. “That was an EMT. Apparently, someone from the hotel Eliza is staying in found her unconscious in her room.”

“Oh my God,” Scarlett said, literally moving backwards as if she’d been struck in the chest.

“I guess my number was the last one in her phone.” He smiled bitterly. “I’m the last person she called before she overdosed on drugs.”

Scarlett glanced away from him. A searing pain flashed through her stomach and chest as she felt the crushing sense of doom, the sense that no matter how hard she tried, Scarlett could never escape her fate.

She couldn’t bear to see the look in Bryson’s eyes now. It was a look that told her everything she needed to know, almost as if he was speaking to her without saying a thing.

But Scarlett didn’t need to hear him speak the words to know what he was thinking.

This is all your fault.