Trouble Me by Beck Anderson Page B

Apotheosis production schedule.”
    “Or what?”
    “Or suffer the consequences.” He flicks a little water on my head.
    “Sounds terrifying.”
    “I don’t care about that, but I do have a plan to be the movie MVP. You’d throw a wrench in my plans.”
    “MVP, eh? Any particular reason?”
    “To spite Amanda. It won’t be very hard. She’s temperamental. Likes to live up to her ginger reputation.”
    “So, you’re feeling a bit competitive?” I let go of him and come to sit on the counter.
    “She doesn’t know it, but yeah. I have no desire to draw any diva comparisons with her.”
    I don’t say it, but I wonder if since rehab, it’s also important to Andrew to prove he’s a reliable, bankable, worthy investment. Not a risky chance to be taken.
    When he was drinking, he told me, he never messed around on set, but he showed up hung over plenty of times. I think he feels strongly that he make up for any stains on his rep left from back then.
    “I need a plan for the day.”
    “Soon you can come hang with me. We still need to firm up the sitter for the boys, but they can always come hang in my trailer too.”
    “They can’t watch videos in their pjs-slash-underwear in your trailer.”
    “True. But I like to see them. I miss all of you on the long days.”
    I run a hand down his forearm. It’s still moist from the shower, and I feel the veins and the muscles tense under my touch. “I miss you too.”
    “Now listen, we just had this conversation. You’re too tempting.”
    “I have no control over my irresistible charms.” I smile and sip my ginger ale.
    “Why don’t you go hit a museum? Maybe Jeremy can hang with the boys today. He can use my office, and he knows Hunter will play Call of Duty with him if he asks.”
    “I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel about Jeremy King, world-class agent and, oh yeah, babysitter.”
    “Jeremy is an LA boy. He doesn’t know what to do with himself here in New York if he doesn’t have meetings. I don’t think you get that he’ll eventually be the adopted uncle-slash-third, no, wait, fourth son in our family. I promise you, he’s lonely. I’m texting him now.” He picks his phone up and sends Jeremy a message.
    I smile. “Poor lonely Jeremy King. And my money was on Todd to be our extra child.”
    Jeremy was maybe at the bottom of my list when we first met. He’s still a Hollywood agent, but he stayed at Andrew’s side when he went through rehab, and he’s proven to be very loyal. I’d even hazard a guess and say Andrew might be his best friend. Maybe his only friend, but still. And he is steadfast and bulldog-tenacious about protecting Andrew from anyone who might try to take him off a sober path, so I appreciate that about him. And he’s around anytime Andrew’s doing business, so he’s been growing on me. He even was, dare I say, fun to hang out with at the Golden Globes in January. But I’d never tell him that. His ego is insufferable as it is.
    Andrew dismisses the mention of Todd. “Too many groupies in Todd’s line of work. He’s a busy, busy man.”
    “If Jeremy comes over, I think I’ll go to the museums.”
    “He’s on his way. And all the museums? I’ll see you next year.”
    “Yes, all of them. I’m renting a Rascal scooter and hitting all of them.”
    “Really. Well, where first?”
    “I think the Met. I want to see the Monets.”
    “Good choice. By yourself?” He wipes the last of the shaving cream from his face with a washcloth, and I think I see two seconds of worry cross that perfect, smooth canvas.
    “Maybe I could ask that girl I met. I don’t know what floor she lives on, though. Guess I can’t knock on doors all day.”
    “The runner?” He asks before he sticks his toothbrush under the faucet.
    “Yeah.”
    “Hang in the lobby when I leave. I’ve seen her the last three mornings coming back at about the same time.”
    This cheers me. But I can’t help it, I chuckle. “Are you stalking her?”
    “I