Before A Perfect World: Movie Trilogy, Book Two (The Movie Trilogy) (12 page)

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. We hadn’t even
talked
about a date, but that was neither here nor there at the moment.

“And
Vivian will finish college?” he insisted, met with a nod from Keaton.

“If that’s what she wants.”

“It’s what I want,” I assured them all, thanking the waitress for my ginger ale. “I will finish college, Dad.”

“
And you’re planning to live… in LA?” my mother asked next, her eyebrows knitting worriedly. “What about my grandchild? How will I be involved in her life?”

The dramatic little
brat inside of me wanted to remind her of that lovely, winter’s drive to the abortion clinic that was still too fresh in my mind. Instead, I gave her a mature smile. “Planes fly back and forth every day, Mom.”

“
You’re financially independent, I assume?” My dad asked Keaton.

“Comfortably so.”
Keaton replied, being smirky and pompous, but so fucking cute.

“
And this movie you’re making? Tell me about it.”

I started to answer my dad, but Keaton was already talking. He’d ordered water to drink, though I’d watch his eyes dart to the
bar several times. “
Round-Up.
About murders that are happening in amusement parks all over the country with that particular ride. Vivian is the leading actress.”

“Murders? This sounds like the news story,” he commented, and Keaton nodded.

“There have been a string of incidents, yes. The FBI is involved.”

“Are you involved?” my dad asked, and my mother gave him a chastising glare. “What? I can’t imagine that you haven’t been implicated in some way. The entire cast and crew-”

“I’ve been questioned. Very few people had access to the script. It’s clear that the murders are being set up to mimic the movie plot, yes.”

“Doesn’t that put you in danger? Both of you?” my mom looked ready to freak out any moment, and I tightened my grip on Keaton’s hand.

“Mom, there’s nothing that either of us can do. Keaton had security accompany us everywhere in LA. And I’m sure the set is secure-”

“I
t is. Given the scope of the situation,” Keaton added, “the studio has taken extra precautions. We’re filming in Utah, in a very secluded area near the mountains, and at an amusement park there.”

“This is a horror movie?”

My dad’s question caught me off-guard. I was already sick of the cross-examination, and my stomach rumbled uncomfortably. “Yes, Dad.”

“Is there nudity?” he demanded.

“No-”

“There is a love scene,” Keaton corrected, turning to me. “I will make sure that it is absolutely tasteful. After all, Vivian is going to be my wife.”

I swooned like a vapid schoolgirl, resting my head against his shoulder. He turned to kiss the top of my head, and my mom gave a soft sigh.

“
Opposite whom?” my dad persisted.

“Ash Salter.”

“Oh, my God,” my mom finally gasped, covering her mouth. “Ash Salter? Vivian… oh, sweetheart, I’m so proud of you,” she cried, nearly doing a sitting two-step from under the table as she gave an excited little squeal.

“
He’s a good actor. I liked him in… Catherine, what movie was that, with the lawyer that was on the run from the mafia…”

“
Legal Terms.
With Ash Salter and Natalie Portman.”

“Food. Mmm.” I
smiled at the waiter, thanking him as he lowered the sizzling plates of steak fajitas before us. “Let’s just eat, okay?” I suggested.

“Keaton, have you been married before?” my dad fired in response.

I set my fork down, sighing deeply.

“Dad. Yes. Yes he was married before. Can you just stop? Please?
Enough
already.”

My outburst surprised both of my parents, and Keaton squeezed my thigh from under the table.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss my cheek. “I don’t mind. You shouldn’t either. You eat, I’ll talk.”

I sighed again, waiting for the inevitable.

K

“Divorced?”

“
Arrested?”

“Enough,” Vivian begged. “It’s in the past. Keaton, don’t answer another question.”

“I don’t think we’re being unreasonable,” my dad replied sternly. “You take off, don’t speak to us for months, and then expect to waltz back in here with someone new, pregnant
again
, and-”

“Mr. Hale,” I interrupted, watching the vivid blue of Vivian’s eyes darken to that shade of violet that meant that she was on the verge of tears, “with all due respect, Vivian acknowledged
that she’d made some mistakes. We all do, especially when we’re young, and in… love,” I added, trying not to think about Numero. “We’re here, as adults, hoping that you’ll accept who we are, not dwell on who we were. Can we ask that of you? Both of you?” I added, turning to Vivian’s mother.

Her dad prickled under my words, but her mother nodded
eagerly. “Vivian, sweetheart, you know that we’ve always had your best interest in mind. We’re glad you’ve moved on from Matthew. All of that was just… well, like Keaton said, a mistake.”

“Matthew wasn’t a mistake,
leaving
was a mistake,” she snapped, slamming her fork to the table and speaking through gritted teeth. “I loved Matthew. I loved Rory. I would have died for him. Keaton, take me back,” she ordered angrily, her voice wavering with tears.

“V, calm down-”

“I’m not pretending we’re this happy, fucking-fairy-tale family any more. I love Keaton, and my future with him, and I won’t let you sit here berating me… or
him
… for another minute.”

“Go.” Her father pushed back, dropping his own fork to the plate. “Go then. Run. You’re very good at that, aren’t you?”

“Keaton, I swear to God, take me out of here before I say something I’ll regret,” she growled.

“Go on, say what’s on your mind, young lady. Tell me what makes you so deserving of our trust. After all that we’ve done for you. Please, enlighten me.”

“I hope that I am never as judgmental and unforgiving to my own child,” she hissed, sliding out of the booth. I followed her, standing, watching her temper flare.

She was on fire. I’d seen her pissed off at me before, but never to the extent that she was with her father. Her mother sat against the window, glancing around the restaurant nervously, but her father remained perfectly calm.

“I hope that you learn some grace and maturity, for your child’s sake.”

“I’ve done my best to make the right decisions, and-”

Her father snorted sarcastically. “Maybe you should try
acting
like a mother.”

“Fuck
yo-
”

“And…we’re out.
” I threw my napkin over my plate. “Mr. Hale, Mrs. Hale, it was nice talking to you, up until this point. I won’t sit back and let you criticize Vivian. I’m responsible for her health, and the well-being of my child. She doesn’t need this. You have a ride home, I hope?” I asked, not really caring, but trying my best to be as polite as possible.

“Get your things, and be gone by the time we get home,” he replied,
glaring past me and straight at Vivian.

She only turned, covering her mouth and running for the door.

I threw a twenty dollar bill at the table and chased her to the car, catching her as she broke into what I thought were sobs. After a moment, I realized that she wasn’t crying, she was
seething
. “I hate him! I hate them both! They blame me for… for what
happened
… and-”

“Hey.” I smoothed her hair, lowerin
g my voice. “Hey, my hormonal little firecracker. Take a deep breath.”

She
narrowed her angry eyes at me.

I mocked her, sticking my lower lip out and thrusting my jaw forward.

“Stop it!” she cried, fighting back a smirk.

“Come on, let’s go get your clothes. They should still be packed. This makes, what, twice that you’ve been kicked out in
the last twenty-four hours?”

She clenched her fists at her sides. “
You are not making this better!”

“We should get you a bindle, my adorable little hobo.”

“What in the
fuck
is a bindle?”

“You know, a stick, with the bandana tied around the end with all your worldly possessions.”

“
Fuck
you, Keaton!”

I stared her down in the parking lot, unable to resist letting my gaze fall to her chest. Her breasts rose and fell with her stubborn breaths, and I fitted my hips against hers, pressing her to the car.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“I like you this way. Pissed off. Vulnerable. Helpless. You only have me to rely on, and it infuriates you.”

“Are you trying to make me
angrier?
”

“I’m trying to make you smile.” I continued my deadpan stare until, finally, her mouth twitched in the corner. I grinned.
“There you go. That wasn’t so hard. Get in,” I ordered, pressing a kiss to her forehead before opening her car door.

She stewed
furiously for a few minutes as I tried to remember the way back to her parents’ house.

“
I’m going to ruin your movie,” she finally said, pressing her fingers to her temples. “Look at my life right now. I’m a mess. My parents will never stop judging me, and Matthew- God, I broke his heart, again- and-”

Well,
that
was fucking enough.

I hit the brakes, trying not to drive with my temper.
“If you say his name again, I’m dropping your ass off at his house.”

My harsh words surprised her, I could tell.

“Keaton?” She tried for wounded, but there was no mistaking her defensiveness.

“What?
Vivian, I have given you time. A shot at this movie. I drove all the way
here
. I stood up for you to your parents. Either you’re mine or you’re not. If I hear you talk about how much you still love him
one
more fucking time, I’m done.”

She pr
essed her back against the seat. Finally, when she turned my way, I stiffened to see her eyes glazed with tears.

“I’m so sorry. You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

“I’m not trying to bully you into saying I’m
right
. I am just making it clear where I stand, kiddo.”

She nodded, looking down at her hands. “Just let me… grab my things. I’ll be right out.”

“I’ll get your suitcase,” I countered, getting out of the car and walking around to her door.

She let us in through the garage door. Neit
her of us spoke a word as I helped her gather her things.

As we settled back in the car, she turned away from me, resting her head against the back of the seat.

“The ball is on Saturday?”

H
er words sounded sleepy and far-away. I reached for the back of her neck, massaging gently.

“Yes. Don’t worry. We have plenty of time to get to
Sears
for a gown for you.”

She chuckled softly, turning my way.

“Hey.” I moved my eyes back to the road for a moment before giving her a long, serious look. “I didn’t mean to be so hard on you.”

“Yes you did,” she corrected.

“Maybe.”

She sighed, turning to look out the window again.
“Where are we going?”

“
The Hilton. Oh, and I got a text from your acting coach. He’s willing to work with you back in LA, and then on the set. I think he heard Salter’s in the movie.”

“Do you really think that… I need a lot of coaching?” she asked, and I
pulled into the parking garage of the downtown Cleveland Hilton.

“
Some.”

“I’m tired.” Her soft voice sounded almost childlike as I turned off the ignition, moving to retrieve our bags.

“Come on, kiddo. A little further.”

She
walked with me to the front desk, and I remembered checking into the hotel in Pittsburgh with her. Things were so different between us then; flirty, playful, and I was enjoying the hell out of teasing her.

Now, she leaned against my side, carrying my baby, exhausted
after forty-eight hours of nonstop turmoil.

“Please send room service up as soon as possible. Some soup, dinner rolls,” I ordered, and the concierge nodded.

“Of course, Mr. Thane.”

I hadn’t even closed the hotel room door befo
re she lowered to the king-size bed, tucking herself under the comforter. “I’m just going to rest for a few minutes.”