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We stepped into the bright sunshine, another cloudless day in California. Passing a garden full of succulents, we wandered along the gravel path to the parking lot.
“Well, you’re going to love it now. You won’t want to leave.”
“You’re confident.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Well, I am a TV star. That’s only natural.”
“And how’s the third season taping going?”
“Good. We’re starting contract negotiations for season four. Henn’s playing hardball. If I don’t get offered more, I’m walking.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yup. I’ve got enough offers coming in for other stuff. Maybe it’s time to try for a film role again,” I replied. “You want to stop and grab lunch first?”
“Thanks, but I just wanna head home. I don’t want to risk getting photographed just yet.”
Just because or because he was with me?
“And no, it has nothing to do with you, Ree. I’m just not ready for the paps yet. And I promise, I’m going to do better. You know, be an ally. I’m sorry I’ve been a shit person.”
“You’re not a shit person. You’ve just made some shitty decisions. And things are changing,” I stated as we got to my car. I unlocked the door and slid into the driver’s seat. “Queer actors are demanding rep. More films and movies are going to reflect that.”
I left it at that. Tate was free to tell me. If he ever wanted to tell me.
“That’s good. I’m happy for you.”
For me.
He was still holding on to some of his secrets.
My good mood began to waver.
“What’s the plan when you get home?” I asked, changing the subject.
I started the car and pulled out of the lot. The gates opened and I sped onto the main road that led to the highway. So far, I didn’t notice any cars following us, but you could never be too careful.
“I need to get myself into a regular routine. I’ve got the name of a sober living specialist who’ll help me get adjusted. And I have a meeting with Henn. I want to get my feet wet again. Nothing major, but something. You know I’m no good with time on my hands.”
I chatted about the latest Hollywood gossip as we drove, ending up at the winding hills of his gated community.
The security guard at the entrance recognized us and waved us through with a smile.
“It feels like I’ve been gone for years, never mind months.”
“Do you want me to stay with you for a while?” I offered.
“No, I couldn’t let you do that. You’ve done enough. I don’t even know how to begin to thank you.”
I waved him off as I pulled into his driveway. “No thanks needed. I’m just glad to see you looking healthy again.”
We unloaded his bags and brought everything inside.
“Wow, it’s so different,” Tate murmured as he dropped his jacket and looked around.
Gone was the builder beige paint, and in its place there were warm terra cotta walls that set off the southwestern style of his furniture. I’d added lots of chunky knit throws and pillows, leafy plants, and wood accents. And with some new paintings on the walls, it was warm and inviting. At least, I thought so.
“It’s amazing,” Tate continued as he stepped into the living room. “I love it.”
