Up until now, I had planned on being as hands-off as possible. There’s plenty I could do in the background without making my presence well-known on the set. I hadn’t exactly been shy about it either. Which is why the cocky, half-smirk I receive in response from my brother is not only expected but deserved.
“Oh, now you want to help?” He laughs. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain pretty blonde, would it?”
“Well, it’s her bloody show, innit?” I shrug, desperately trying to make this about the show and not about Carina. If my brother has the slightest inkling that I’m attracted to her, I will never hear the end of it. He’ll be making faces behind her back every time I talk to her. It’ll become a thing, and it cannot become a thing. Not when I have to work with her every day and nothing can happen between us. “But no, ya tosser, it’s not about Carina.”
She and I have to work together, and I can’t jeopardize the show. Even if she does have the most perfect bum I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Sure, whatever you say, mate.” He laughs, rolling his eyes as he clasps his hands down on my shoulder. He pats it three times before shaking his head in amusement, then points over to a table with a laptop. “Actually, if you want to help, ring Carina and get her assistant’s information. If she doesn’t have one, and I’m assuming she doesn’t, we’ll need to find her one.”
I can handle that.
After I pull my mobile from the pocket of my slacks, I press the home button, unlocking it with my fingerprint. Pulling up my most recent calls, I scroll through until I find Carina’s name, holding down on it to connect the call.
“Hello?”
“’Ello, Carina, it’s Ryan West,” I start, wincing when I realize she knows this already. Every mobile since the nineties has had caller ID.
“Hi, Ryan,” she says in response. “Can you hold on for just two seconds?”
“Of course,” I tell her as she quickly rattles off a coffee order. I take note of the patience in her tone as she gently corrects the order as it’s said back to her.
“Sorry, Ryan,” she apologizes. “You caught me in the middle of a drive-thru coffee stop. What’s up?”
“I won’t keep you long,” I assure her. “I just need your assistant’s contact information. We need them to come in and fill out some employment paperwork before the show starts filming.”
“Oh, um,” she starts, hesitantly. “I, uh, I don’t have an assistant.”
Alfie called it.
Just as I’m about to tell her it’s no problem and that we have agencies to fill positions like this, she adds in, “But, can I have a day or two to see if I can figure it out? I have someone in mind.”
“Yes, of course. Just let me know either way as soon as ya can, okay?” I tell her, while simultaneously rolling my eyes at the to-do list my brother has placed down on the table in front of me. Scanning it over, I give him a thumbs up, quickly following it by flipping him off. One day, we’ll be mature adults who can interact without telling the other to bugger off, but today is not that day. Tomorrow isn’t probable either.
“You can keep the change,” she says, quickly followed by, “Sorry, Ryan. Yes, that’s perfect. I’ll let you know as soon as possible.”
“I won’t keep you any longer,” I say, chuckling as she thanks someone. “Enjoy your night, love.”
“You too, Ryan,” she says before ending the call.
There isn’t time to be hung up over the fact that I suddenly wish I had a reason to call her back. Placing my mobile on the table in front of me, I look at my brother who stood there during the remainder of the phone call—watching me like a hawk.
With crossed arms and raised eyebrows, he studies me silently.
“Yes? Can I help you?” I ask, knowing I’m about to catch some shit from him.
“Nothing, love.” He smirks before uncrossing his arms and pointing down to the list. “You good?”
“Yes, Mum. I’ll make sure I get all my chores done,” I jest, shaking my head. Once I spend more time here on set, I’ll start taking things over on my own. Taking directions from Alfie is already annoying me. Not so much because it’s my little brother telling me what to do, but because I’m not a fan of feeling like someone else has the upper hand. “Once I tackle this list, I’m going to book a flight back to New York.”
“Ryan,” he starts, his shoulders rising and falling as he sighs in frustration.
“I have to get more clothes if I’m going to be staying in Massachusetts long-term,” I continue, before he can lecture me about needing me here.
“Right.” He nods, grinning. “I’m sure the luggage full of suits and shoes wasn’t enough.”
“I’d also like my trainers,” I say with a shrug, pointing to the laptop on the table. There’s no questioning it’s his. His wife’s face plastered all over the background is a dead giveaway. “I’d ask if you want to start running with me again, but I’m sure you’ll be off to London soon enough.”
“Actually, I’ve been thinking about staying here a bit longer,” he says, his body shifting in tension. “Just ‘til everything is up and running.”
“Oh?” I want to ask him if there’s trouble in paradise. He’s always wanted to get back to Eloise as soon as possible. Until now.
“I told her before I left that I wanted a divorce,” he says, making me freeze in place.
Those are the last words I expected to hear come from my brother’s mouth. Eloise is a real piece of work, but Alfie has always made excuses for her.
“She says she’s pregnant, mate,” he adds.
7
Carina
By the time I get to the gray split-level ranch I grew up in, I have to park on the street. All three of my siblings’ cars are in the driveway. I’m only halfway up the gravel walkway when the front door flies open. Greeted by the bright smile of the cutest eight-year-old I know, I feel slightly better about being ambushed by my family the second I walk through the door.
“Does no one work in this family?” I call out, bending down slightly to kiss my daughter on top of her head. “Hi, bambina.”
Born three weeks early, Rosalina Susan Domenico was named after the two most important women in my life: my grandmother and my mom.
“Hi, Mom!” Lina grins, holding the screen door open. The bright blue eyes she inherited from her father glance over the tray of coffees I’m holding. “Whatcha got there?”
“If you’re looking for your iced chai, it’s the one closest to you.” I laugh, shaking my head in amusement as she raises her fist triumphantly. Every Monday on the way to school, we stop at Roasted and Toasted—my favorite coffee shop in town—and get a double cappuccino for me and an iced chai for her.
Up until I signed the contract, my bank account wouldn’t allow daily trips. Most mornings, I make our drinks at home.
My parents had gifted me an espresso maker a couple Christmases ago; and every year for my birthday, they gift me a yearly subscription to the Coffee Collective. So, once a month, I get a delivery of espresso beans from all over the world.