Page 13 of The Exception

With that, Eli walked out and closed the door behind himself.

“I did?” Andrew’s voice was hard to read. “That’s it?”

What was he looking for from me? “Did you want a dissertation on every staff member I meet?”

“Nah.” Andrew shrugged. “I just figured Jaws was the kind of person you’d hit it off with.”

“Because…?”

“He’s responsible. Like you.” Andrew winked.

Uh-huh. I shook my head in amused disbelief. When Andrew was a kid, it was true. Hell, when he was eighteen, he was backpacking across South America when an ex-girlfriend of his dropped their baby on my porch.

Biologically, Andrew was Lucas’s father. In every other way, he was Uncle Andrew, and I wasMom. I’d raised Lucas. He was my son.

Andrew had also grown up a lot since then, with a big spurt of maturity when he met his wife, Susan, and as much as he liked to still pretend he was irresponsible and reckless, he’d gotten to where he was on his own. “No, he’s an asshole, like you.” The words came out teasing, in my head they were playful, but I still felt bad saying them out loud. It had taken me years to get comfortable with calling my own brother names like that, and only because he’d coaxed it out of me.

Did I really just say that about someone who worked for him? Regardless of what I thought of Eli, that was inappropriate.

Andrew didn’t look fazed. Of course. “I promise you, he’s a very different kind of asshole from me. What did he do?”

“Told me I was pretty and asked me out.” That sounded weak. But I had my reasons.

Andrew’s feigned shock said he didn’t see what those were. “Oh. My. God. He wanted to spend more time with you? He complimented you? Fucking jerk. Do you want me to fire him? I bet he thought the two of you would go somewhere and eat. Talk. About how responsible you both are. That’s it, he’s out of here. No one buys my sister dinner and gets away with it.”

“Knock it off.” I didn’t appreciate him being the voice of my doubt.

“Consider it knocked. Do you want the grand tour?”

“Can we stop talking about assholes?”

The way Andrew screwed up his face in thought told me I was about to regret the way I phrased my question. “Fortunately for you, we’re not filming the anal for another two weeks.”

“There’s no… Not in a movie like this.” Heat flooded my face. Yup, I still got embarrassed about the way he talked about sex, about making porn, the way I talked about ROI and ACOS.

“It’s an indie film. Thought I’d try to slip something like that in.” He chuckled. “Damn it, I can’t believe I just wasted a good anal joke on you. Where’s Eli? I want him to write that into the screenplay.”

If I let Andrew keep going, he’d never stop. If I asked him to stop again, that would be worse. “A tour would be great.”

Andrew led me through the warehouse, and pointed out various things. The buffet table. The camera crew. The handful of actors. The couple of sound stages that looked eerily like rooms from our house growing up. He’d recreated those a little too well for my suppressed trauma.

I caught glimpses of Eli every so often, and told myself not to stare. To put him out of my mind. Not every puzzle needed to be solved, including and especially his sincerity.

We walked at the edge of a room that looked disturbingly like every classroom in the private high school Andrew and I had attended. Was one of those desks inscribed with the name of the boy I was certain I loved back then? How real was this set?

A large crack sounded behind me, at the same time someone shouted, “Look out.”

Before I could spin, a horrific scream of agony filled the room.

6

elijah

Fuckthis hurt.Probably not as badly as my initial shout implied—that was as much surprise as pain—but the pain in my thumb still throbbed. When I saw the stage light falling toward Kandace and Andrew, I didn’t so much think as act.

What did I hope to accomplish? I hadn’t thought that far.

“Someone get some ice.” Andrew’s barked order carried through the room.

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