I wonder what kind of movies Addison likes. I wonder, as Monica talks about someone else’s work life, what Addison’s dream role is. Showing up to my house last night certainly wasn’t what she imagined for herself. I wonder if I could somehow make it up to her…
“…premiere next week if you want to go,” Monica is saying.
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, shifting my focus back to her.
“I’m going to the big premiere next week and was asking if you wanted to be my date.”
I stare back at her for a beat, trying to ground myself back in the moment. “Your date,” I repeat, like a simpleton.
“What are we doing here, Rex, if not getting back together? Isn’t that why you invited me to dinner? I told Daddy that we were meeting and he was so happy. He thinks your company should get into the talent management business. He says why else are you based in L.A. if you don’t get more involved in movies?”
“We are involved,” I say, because it’s true—I have two production companies.
“I wouldn’t know, would I? You never talk about work. Which is fine, I get it. Keeps a good balance of work and life. It’s smart.”
Another dark-haired woman walks by outside, but she doesn’t have half the curves of Addison so I quickly look away. Still, it’s enough for Monica to turn to see what keeps grabbing my attention.
I scold myself.
She left without so much as a word.
Focus on what matters, and right now, that’s Monica.
The waitress brings out our food. I stare down at the grilled chicken salad. I think of last night, cooking for Addison, watching her eat with that robe hanging slightly open. I think of the way she bit into the burger I made her, chomping with gusto and real hunger. I bet the last time Monica ate a burger was when she was eleven, and then it was probably just one slider. I love that Addison hasn’t fallen into all the L.A. bullshit traps like no carbs, no meat, no reality.
“I was thinking about heading out to the house in Palm Springs if you want to join me,” Monica is saying, spearing an asparagus. “Something wrong with your salad?”
I look up at Monica. There is nothing wrong with Monica. She’s lovely and well meaning.
But what the hell was I thinking?
“Monica, I need to go,” I say.
She looks at me curiously. “Something back at work?”
“No,” I say. “I just…can’t. I thought this might work out, Monica, but I was wrong. I don’t want to waste your time.”
She sits back in her chair and tosses her cloth napkin on the table beside her dinner. Her eyes are blazing with anger and a pretty healthy dose of humiliation. I feel bad, but I won’t lead her on again.
She pushes out from her chair and gets her bag. She stands over me and says, “Don’t fucking call me again. And tell Sheldon the same.”
She marches out of the restaurant, but at least she didn’t cause a scene.
I run my hand across my forehead, thinking. I know I have to see Addison again, but how? I don’t even know her last name.
I pay the check and hand my ticket to the valet. I may not know how to get a hold of Addison, but I know the one person who does.
Twenty minutes later I’m pulling into the circle driveway of a huge place in Beverly Hills and refraining myself from slamming my fist on the gigantic front door. Now that I'm here, I’m anxious as hell. The need to check in on and see Addison has grown more intense with every moment since I decided that I have to see her again.
I’m like a fucking addict who needs his fix.
The door swings open and Damien stands there in lounge pants and T-shirt holding a glass of scotch. He gives me a surprised look.
“Rex? What are you doing here? Everything okay with the girl?”
“I need to talk to you about her,” I say. “I need to get in touch with her. Now.”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down,” Damien says, holding up his hands, the ice rattling in his glass. “If something went wrong, let me handle it, Rex. I don’t want you getting your hands dirty. I’ll make sure she doesn’t get the rest of her fee. That’s why I don’t pay in full upfront. I’m not an idiot.”
I scoff at that. “No, it’s not that, Damien. She was fine.” And I definitely don’t like his implication. “You’re the one who screwed up. I told you I wanted a wife, not some ridiculous girlfriend experience.”
“Yeah, I know, I know,” Damien says, zero regret. “I thought she’d be good though, man. She seemed like the perfect chick and I thought she’d get interested once you two met. Didn’t work out that way, though, huh? What’s her problem? Boring? Stupid? I can get you another girl. Just say the word.”
“Watch your mouth, Damien,” I say frustrated. This guy really is scum. I can’t believe I bought anything he was selling. “I don’t want some other girl. I want Addison.” It feels pretty terrible having to tell this guy that he actually did send me the right girl, if for the wrong reasons. He’s lecherous as fuck.
“Ah, okay then,” he says, a grin playing across is greasy face. “She must have done better than expected then, huh?” He takes a swig of his scotch, a splash hitting his chin. He doesn’t wipe it away. “She’s a good one, am I right? Very sweet and innocent. Yeah, I know my girls, that’s for sure. She give you good service?”
Before another word can come out of his mouth I grab him by scruff of his T-shirt. “Watch your mouth, asshole. Just give me her name and phone number. That’s all I want.”
“Get your hands off me, Croft,” Damien says, and tries to push my hand away. But I can see the flicker of fear in his eyes as he watches me. I pull him closer, so ready to deck him that my free hand is clenched and ready to go.
“Just say one more thing about her,” I say. “I dare you.”
“Look, you took a shine to her, that’s cool,” he says, his hands out to the side. “That’s what we’re here for.”
“Just give me her info, fucker,” I say.
“Alright, alright,” he says, and I release him long enough to follow him inside. He gives me her number and address.
As I’m leaving Damien seems to get his balls back.
“Be careful, man,” he calls as I fire up my car. “If you want a business arrangement with that girl like you told me, don’t let your emotions get in the way.”
I rev the engine and put the car into gear.
“But you’re young,” he yells. “You’ll learn the hard way!”
I drive off, hoping I never have to see that prick again, thinking only of seeing Addison.
Addison
I can’t sleep. I toss and turn on my foam mattress, thinking a million thoughts at once.
One thought: money. I need it.
Also: I need another audition. I need to keep this roof with its water-stained ceiling over my head.
Another thought: Rex. Actually, two things about Rex—what I did with him, and how I felt with him.
I’ve shaken off the feeling of having done anything like prostitution. That’s not what I did. Sex is not what I went there for and it’s not what he wanted me there for.