Winter Wishes (Sharing Space #5)

Winter Wishes

Sharing Space – Book Five

By Nina Perez

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2013 Nina Perez

All rights reserved.

To the usual suspects…

MJ Heiser & Steven Novak

My Project Fandom crew

My parents, siblings, and family

Sophie Loney

And most of all, thank you to Donny, Kali, and Jack

Special thanks to all my new readers who hang out with me on Facebook. <3

Table of Contents

Chapter One:
Shining Moments

Chapter Two:
What a Ho-Ho-Ho

Chapter Three:
Too Little Too Late

Chapter Four:
Not Quite Good Enough

Chapter Five:
Saying Goodbye

Chapter Six:
Black Christmas

Chapter Seven:
Confession

Chapter Eight:
A Lot Like Love

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me.”

“I don’t love you.”

“You’re lying. You can’t just turn it off. You can’t just flick a switch and suddenly not love someone. When we were at our best, we were like fire. You don’t just turn that off overnight.”

“This isn’t overnight. You know that. You just won’t admit it—”

“What? Is it your family? Your mother is making you do this, isn’t she? What has she threatened you with this time?”

“It’s not my mother. It’s not my family. It’s me. My feelings have changed. I’ve changed. Since the accident I’ve become a different man.”

“No. I refuse to believe it. You’re still the same man. Somewhere inside there is the man I love, the man who loves me. I… I… have no idea what my next line is.”

“Cut!”

“I’m sorry, Patrick.”

“No worries.”

I smiled at my co-star, Jenni Freeman, who played Carly Buchanan on
Shining Moments
. We’d been shooting scenes together for a few weeks and it wasn’t like Jenni to forget her lines this often in one day, but we’d also been working since six in the morning. It was now after five and everyone was ready to call it a day.

“Sorry, guys,” Jenni said, turning towards the crew and our director, Mick, who’d just called cut on the scene.

“What do you say we call it a wrap for you two? We can pick this up first thing tomorrow. You both have a five a.m. call time, correct?” Mick asked, consulting his iPad.

Jenni and I both nodded in agreement. Early morning call times were old hat to me now that I’d been working on the show for almost a full month. I didn’t mind one bit. I was working. I was an actor. And that was all that mattered. As I walked towards my dressing room—past Stages Four and Five and several makeup rooms—I smiled at the photos lining the walls. They were framed glossy headshots of the show’s cast members. There were veterans; actors who’d been on the show back when I was in diapers and there were Emmy winners, fan favorites, and icons. Now I was their peer, and it felt amazing.

My suitemate, a young black actor named Damien Yates, was resting on one of the sofas when I entered the room. He had an open script tented across his chest and was looking up at the ceiling, softly reciting lines. Not wanting to disturb him I quietly made my way to the mini fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.

“Hey, man. New scripts should be here soon.” Damien sat up, tossing his script on the sofa cushion next to him.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said, dropping into the recliner on my side of the dressing room.

“I was done. I got four pages of dialog in this one. If I don’t know it by now…”

“Yeah. I’m trying to get used to how fast it all moves.”

We shot each episode weeks in advance, but still only had a little more than one week to learn new lines. It was definitely a lot more fast-paced than theatre or commercials, but it was also more rewarding.

“We get a bad rap with the cheesy storylines and all, but you don’t appreciate how much work soaps are until you’re in it.”

He wasn’t lying. In just one month I’d already pushed myself further than I ever had as an actor. Sure, sometimes the storylines were a bit over the top—rumor had it a killer robot story had been nixed by producers shortly before I was hired—but there was no denying that as an actor I was challenged and I’d never felt more proud of my decision to enter into the profession.

“Damien to stage one. Damien, you’re needed on stage one.”

Damien rose and stretched. “Well, that’s me. You done for the day?”

“Yeah, just about to change and head out.”

“Lucky you. I’m off tomorrow so I guess I won’t see you before the party, huh?”

Christmas was a little more than a week away and one of our producers was hosting a holiday party at his penthouse apartment. The whole cast and crew had been invited.

“I’ll be there.” I replied as Damien clutched his script, waved, and headed out for Stage One.

I took a quick shower in the private bath attached to our dressing room, then placed the wardrobe I’d worn for the scene in a canvas laundry bag with the show’s name and logo on it. After changing into my own clothes I went to the phone on my desk and dialed the extension for the wardrobe department. They’d send an intern to pick up my laundry bag and mark the items as returned. When I arrived tomorrow morning, the same outfit would be cleaned and ready for me to continue the scene.

I’d done very little to make my side of the spacious dressing room my own. There was a picture of Chloe, and the card that had accompanied flowers she sent my first day on the desk. I had a few changes of clothes hanging in my closet and that was about it. I’d joked to Chloe that my reluctance to make myself at home was indicative of the fact that it was still all a bit too good to be true, and that maybe I was afraid it would all be taken away. She assured me, while straddling me with her long legs on the sofa at home, that I had nothing to worry about.

“You’re amazing. That’s why you got the job.” Looking at her confident smile as she wore my tee shirt and a pair of my boxers I felt like the luckiest and most confident man in the world. My cell phone vibrated on my desk, pushing me back to the present.

It was Tara, my sister Charlotte’s dormitory roommate.

“Hi, Patrick. She was just here, but she left before I could call you.”

“Where did she go?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I tried to get her to stick around, like you said, but she just grabbed some clothes and said she’d be back in a few days. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m working tomorrow, but in case she comes back, you have my dad’s number, right? And my brother’s?”

“Yup. I programmed them in my phone. If I see her or hear from her, I’ll call again.”

I thanked her and disconnected the call. I wanted nothing more than to get home to Chloe, but I decided to call my father first. Chloe had been so supportive while I dealt with this family drama, but I felt she deserved a night off from hearing about it. When I got home I wanted to give her my full attention. My father answered on the first ring.

“Charlotte’s roommate just called. She was there, but left almost immediately.”

He sighed deeply. “At least we know she’s alive. Thomas was going to be there today, but he had to work.”

My father and my brother Thomas had been taking turns staking out her dorm building, hoping to corner Charlotte into a conversation. I wasn’t so sure that was the best course of action. I’d seen her on Thanksgiving Day; they hadn’t. A forced confrontation would cause Charlotte to lash out and then retreat, but I understood that my family felt like they had to do something and she’d left us few options.

“The resident assistant finally called me back. She was able to get Orbit’s off-campus address from another student. We were thinking we might head over there tomorrow.” My father paused. “Can you come?”

“I can’t. I’m shooting tomorrow and—”

“That’s fine, son. You’ve already done so much. Dealing with this all on your own. Your mom and I, we’re so sorry about that.”

“Dad, I told you to stop apologizing. How is mom?”

“The same. When she’s not at the church she spends a lot of time in her office.”

“Is she still mad at me?”

“She’s not mad at you, Patrick. She’s just… disappointed. In everything. She said you accused her of being a racist.”

“That’s not entirely accurate, but she doesn’t approve of my girlfriend because she’s black.”

“Chloe is lovely—”

“Exactly. She is. And that should be all that matters.”

“Son, life is never simple. It’s hard and it’s complicated, and it will knock you on your ass more times than you can count. Your mother is just worried that you’re opening yourself up to hardship. It’s what parents do. One day you’ll understand.”

This wasn’t the conversation I’d planned on having. My relationship wasn’t what they needed to concern themselves with. I felt childish even bringing it up. It was best for everyone if the family focused on the real crisis.

There was a knock on my dressing room’s door. “Dad, I have to go. I’m at the studio. Will you call me tomorrow and let me know how it goes?”

“Of course.”

I answered the door and took my new script from the production assistant. I thanked her and
, before I could shut the door, an intern arrived to retrieve my laundry bag. Left with nothing else to do, I headed home.

After a quick nod to the security guard at the front desk, I braced myself for the cold as I pushed open the door with my shoulder. Some days there would be fans outside the studio hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite actors, or maybe score an autograph and photo. Not this night. Christmas was around the corner so it was safe to assume people had better things to do. Besides, it was ridiculously cold, so much so that I opted for a cab instead of the short walk to our apartment.

***

The next night I was in another cab, headed to Jay Robeson’s party. Robeson had been a producer on
Shining Moments
for over twenty-five years. His annual holiday party was a tradition highly anticipated by the entire cast and crew.

“You okay?”

Chloe, seated next to me, placed a hand on my thigh. I covered her hand with my own and gave it a squeeze. I wasn’t okay, but I refused to ruin our night out with talk of Charlotte or my mother’s objections to our relationship. I didn’t even know how I would bring up the latter to Chloe.

“I’m great.” I leaned over and kissed Chloe’s neck. She smelled delicious and looked even better. “I’m looking forward to showing you off tonight.”

“Mmmm. Good thing I feel like being shown off.”

She wasn’t kidding. Under her black fur-lined trench she wore a red dress that looked like it was made for sin. I watched as she crossed her lean legs.

“You look beautiful.” I kissed her again, this time on those full, soft lips.