Page 78 of The Producer: Aaron

The heart that tried to escape from my chest since I laid eyes on her stops in my throat, almost choking me.

“Didn’t he come to the office this morning?” I ask, worried because I don’t know where he may be.

She shakes her head. “For days, he hasn’t shown up. He skips meetings without an explanation. I’m trying to stall with people who ask me about him, saying he’s busy with the papers after his father’s death, but I can’t do it for much longer. I need him to tell me something,” she whispers to prevent prying ears from turning this conversation into gossip.

I turn to the director and sign that I need to take five minutes and make my way with Tracy toward my trailer, and when we close the door behind us, I flop on the couch.

“He hasn’t come to the office all this week?” I ask worriedly.

“Since the reading of the will,” she confirms.

I inhale deeply and try to calm the nerves that stir under my skin. The squeeze on my stomach is overwhelming, and the worry that makes my heart hammer is rooted and shows no sign of slowing it down.

“When I leave the house, I know he is locked up in his home office, but I thought he had come out and come to work at some point,” I admit.

But to what job? Everything he worked for was shattered with the death of his father.

“Can you tell me what the hell happened?” Tracy asks as she sits next to me. On her face, there is all the worry that has accompanied her for days.

“From what I understand, from the few things he told me, his father must have left the company to his mother and not to him.” I summarize briefly what I sensed from the few words we exchanged.

“Holy shit.” The breath comes out of Tracy’s chest and seems not to want to return. Her eyes and mouth are wide open in surprise. I think that of all the explanations I could give her, she hadn’t even considered this one. Everyone in the industry knew that the company would go to him. Even I, the newbie, had no doubt about this.

“I’ve been trying to talk to him for days, but he always shuts me out of every conversation. I don’t know how to help him,” I admit.

If there’s one thing Aaron and I have always done, it’s talk. About everything, even the most complicated and thorny topics. It’s as if after that meeting, he has turned off all his feelings and is surviving on autopilot, cutting off anyone from his life. I was hoping at least that during the day, he would talk to someone who is not me, but now I only realize that I was too optimistic.

“This explains why the other members of the board of the company are asking for a meeting with him,” she pauses to think about the implications of this situation.

“I thought you knew. I mean, such news is huge, and I don’t know how anyone is not talking about it yet.” I try to reason with her and come to terms with the questions I asked Aaron but didn’t get answered.

Tracy looks at me and smiles, but the worry never leaves her gaze. “Maybe because before his mother can take over the company, they first want to know who will take care of the decisions. His father’s death has already shaken investors, and the stock tumbled on the stock market. Announcing that a woman who doesn’t even know how to take care of herself will be at the head of an empire would collapse the stock to the point that I don’t know if the company would survive,” she explains, with the knowledge of someone who is not a simple assistant but has been working shoulder to shoulder with Aaron for years.

I inhale deeply, put my hands on my eyes, and then remind myself that I am wearing makeup and should get out of here to do my job. As much as I feel pain for Aaron, I can’t leave the set without a valid reason.

“Do you have the keys to our house? Can you text me if you find him in his office? Can you let me know if he’s okay?” I plead, getting up and walking her to the door.

“Of course. And Dakota, don’t worry. Aaron is someone whohas always been reborn from every defeat. He will get up again in time.” She smiles at me, but her words don’t reassure me.

I think of the phoenix tattoo on Aaron’s shoulders and wonder if he will be reborn from his ashes this time.

***

It’s ten at night when I get home, and when I enter, I am surprised to not see the light filtering under the door of Aaron’s studio. When Tracy texted me today that she found him here at home and that he was fine, I breathed a sigh of relief, but now my heart pumps into my chest. The house is completely dark.

I walk to the kitchen and catch a glimpse of Aaron in elegant trousers, barefoot, and with a shirt with the first buttons unfastened, sipping from a glass and staring at the horizon, sitting on one of the deck chairs. His expression is severe but doesn’t reveal anything more. Not anger, disappointment, or any other feeling that would normally stir in his chest after the news he received.

This is what scares me the most about this situation, he is keeping everything inside, and this apathy is not his normal reaction. Aaron doesn’t let himself be knocked down. He is one of those who sets the terms in this industry. He doesn’t stand still sitting on a deck chair. Not in a situation like this.

“Can I sit?” I ask as I approach him.

He beckons me, so I sit next to him, and I stop to study his face, hoping he will tell me something. But he doesn’t even look at me. He keeps staring at the city beyond his pool, holding his glass tightly. The dark circles around his eyes are deep, the wrinkles next to them and on his forehead are accentuated, and the tiredness is visible on his tense features.

“Aaron, please talk to me. I don’t know how to help you, andit’s wearing me down,” I plead when the silence between us continues until my throat is tightened by despair.

He looks down at his glass and shakes his head. “There’s nothing you can do. Get over it.”

His words are like a lash in my chest. I have never heard such resignation in his voice.

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