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“Fuck,”Santa curses, covering his eyes with his arm and squinting at me.
No. Not Santa.
“Abel . . . Clarke?” I remove the beam from his eyes and off to the side so it illuminates his face without dazzling him.Abel is one of the supporting actors and wasn’t too happy about taking a role in this movie if the rumors can be believed.
“Hey, man.” He drops his arm and relaxes into the chair he’s sprawled in.
“Uh, you know the set is closed, right?”
“You sure? I thought they were filming a dining in the dark scene.”
I stare at him for a moment before realizing he’s being a smart-ass.“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Sure, give me a second. I tripped and knocked myself out a few hours ago.”
“Hours?” Shit, the guy’s been lying here unconscious for that long? No wonder I didn’t see or hear him on my earlier sweep. Either that, or I’m getting damn sloppy. “Do you need me to call an ambulance? You could have a concussion.”
Abel waves a hand at me dismissively. “I was drinking—drunk. That probably didn’t help.”
We lapse into silence for a moment as I wait for him to say something else.
When he doesn’t, I clear my throat. “Listen, I was doing one more sweep before locking up. I have somewhere to be.”
“Right.” Abel grabs the arms of the chair and rises, swaying slightly. Attempting to take a step, he misses, and I swoop in, saving him from another nasty fall.
“Easy there.” I wrap an arm around my waist and haul him up. The stench of alcohol hits me, and I clear my throat. “How much you had to drink?”
“Enough,” he mutters, trying to steady himself.
“Listen, I’m not judging, but aren’t you like a big movie star or something? Why the hell are you drinking on set?”
“Bad day,” he says, pulling away abruptly.
“Yeah, okay. We all have those, but that doesn’t mean you go looking for comfort at the bottom of the bottle.” I don’t tell the guy I hit the bottle pretty hard myself for a little while after Luke died. “It’s Christmas, and I would’ve been the last to say this a few days ago, but . . . don’t you have someone you want to spend it with?”
A pained look crosses his face. “I thought I did, but I was wrong.”
I frown at him, rubbing the back of my neck. Seems like I’m not the only one tied up in knots over someone special. “Yeah, I know how that is. But if you’re wrong, or even slightly wrong, this time of year . . .” I pause, thinking of Charity. “Well, a lot can happen and change—some good, some bad—but it’s also a time when the last thing you expected to happen can and will. So, if there’s someone you want to be with, and maybe you think they don’t want to be with you, it’s worth letting them know.” I shrug casually, but my emotions are anything but. I’m giving this guy advice on his love life, but I may as well be talking to myself. “What’s the worst that can happen? You get drunk and knock yourself out past lights-out at work? You’ve already done that.”
A small laugh forces its way out. “Then I meet Mr. Six-foot-something Built-Like-A-Brick-Shithouse.”
“Most people call me Ryder.” I flash a grin.
“Well, Ryder, I don’t need to tell her I want to be with her. She made it clear she never wanted to be with me, I was just a stepping stool for her career, and she didn’t mind stuffing her heel into me on the way up.”
“She said that?” I ask in surprise.
“Not in so many words, but I overheard it.”
“Hang on. You overheard her saying something but didn’t ask her about it to her face? God, you actors are all drama queens.” I shake my head. “Go and speak to her. You know what they say about assuming. Makes an ass out of you and me.”
“You’re seriously calling me an ass right now?”
“Yeah, because you are if this is how belligerent you get over something you don’t know for sure—total asshole move.”
My blood runs cold as I register my words. Isn’t that exactly what I did? Totally different and tragic circumstances, but didn’t I take Luke’s dying words and put my own interpretation on them? He asked me to take care of Charity, nothing more,nothing less, but I allowed my guilt to twist those words into something else entirely.
I’m barely aware of Abel patting my shoulder and weaving his way off the stage. Seems Abel doesn’t have the monopoly on belligerence or asshole moves. I could give him a run for his money and lap him several times.
