Page 6 of Ten Hammers

I thought when I’d ended that call we were on the same page about not being on the same page. We’re not even in the same book.

“Listen, Cynthia, like I told you last night–”

“So what do you think? Jack Loves Cynthia?” she bulldozes on.

I close my eyes. Diane, her agent, is the sister of Eric, our show’s sound engineer. When they set us up I made it clear I wasn’t looking for anything serious. How did we get here?

One desperate kiss at a time, I suppose.

“I’m sorry, but the thing is, I don’t love you.”

Also, as I’ve told her about a million times, when 1 Girl, 10 Hammers wraps, so does my stint in reality TV.

She swats me playfully on the arm. With an eye roll, she replies, “Duh. And I don’t love you. You’re not at all what I’m looking for long-term. Don’t get me wrong, you’re hot as fuck, and one of the best lovers I’ve ever had– and I do mean that, babe. But you’re not soulmate material, you know what I’m saying? At least not for me. You’re a bit too rugged, too rough around the edges. Actually that will be a part of your character arc on the show, I think. The extremely hot makeover of a Hammer brother.”

I open my mouth.

“Now, Jack Hammer, don’t you dare look surprised! You should know better than anyone that reality television is all about the fantasy. It’s fiction– fake. But doing this will catapult our careers into the stratosphere.”

Her career is already in the stratosphere and I’m content with my next career move being: has-been D-list celebrity. Designing and building houses in the country, far from all the lights, cameras, and actions related to a TV show, is my kind of life. I’ve loved every minute of 1 Girl, 10 Hammers, but I want my privacy back.

“Just say yes, babe. Come on. You know you want to.” She shoves my arm playfully, but I recoil from her touch.

“There’s nothing fake about our show.” Has she even heard a single word I’ve said? Ever?

My attention strays. Across the street, Winnie has her hand on Max’s shoulder. Maybe standing a little closer than friends should as she looks up at him. I scowl and run a frustrated hand through my hair, recognizing that I’m actually jealous of my brother. It’s just that when I’m talking to Winnie, I always know she’s listening, absorbing every word, truly paying attention and valuing what I have to say. I’d give my right nut to trade places with Max right now. Both nuts, even.

Cynthia snaps her fingers. “For god’s sake, Jack, would you stop gawking at Winnebago and–”

“What did you just say?” I cut her off, my hackles rising.

“I said stop gawking over there and pay attention to me!”

“No.” A cold fury settles in my chest. “What did you just say about Winnie?”

She waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, you know I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just a silly name people call her.”

“It’s what assholes call her,” I growl.

Cynthia looks startled. “Jackie, I didn’t mean–”

“I don’t care what you meant.” I’m bone tired, all of a sudden, drained from interacting with this woman. “I care about what you said. Winnie is my best friend. She’s family.”

As I’m speaking to Cynthia, my gaze roves over to Win.

“She’s everything,” I say, mostly to myself.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I manage to tear my eyes away from Winnie. And Max. I can’t tear my thoughts away from the fact that she seems to be touching him a lot more than usual. I watch as she gives him a kiss on the cheek before she scurries off, as if someone has summoned her.

“Look, Cynthia. I think… no, I know… you and I are done. Actually, I don’t know if we ever really got started.”

Cynthia shapes her glossy lips into a pretty pout. “What about Italy?”

“Pasta gives me indigestion. You go and have fun, though.”

She stares at me, with one eyebrow arched and both arms folded across her chest. After a moment, she whips out her phone. Typing away, she says, “For the record, the official story is going to be that I dumped you.”

I nod. “Fine by me. Take care, Cynthia.”

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