Page 56 of Spencer's Satisfaction
“You have to go out back and sit down before you have a real panic attack,” Ash says, coming to support my other side. If anyone can speak from experience, it’s him. We’ve spoken about our similar traumas a few times now, and I’m still in awe that this confident, attractive guy used to feel a lot like I do. “Come on, Uncle Ted will deal with this guy. He put his hands on you, so he’s not getting anywhere near you again.”
There’s blustering from the angry customer, but Ash and Charlie pull me away. Charlie says something to Ted about calling Josh, and Ash says something about calling Spencer or Tanya, but I’m not paying a lot of attention. I’m too busy trying to hold it together while I’m paraded past tables full of people.
People who have seen me struggle to make eye contact. Who have witnessed me gesture wildly with my hands when I’m flustered. People who saw me stammer and almost cry because some other customer got in my face.
People probably thinking that I’m weak and stupid and pathetic.
These thoughts build and fester as we round the counter and head towards the swinging door.
“What the fuck?” Gerald demands. “You can’t be back here.”
“If I were you, I’d be more concerned about the fact that you left him alone out there with about a hundred hungry people and one major asshole whojust assaulted him,” Ash snaps back.
“What? So there’s nobody out there? Fuck’s sake, Russo, get your shit together and man up.”
I don’t know why, but it’s that demand that finally breaks me.
Maybe it’s the complete disregard for the fact that a customer reached out and grabbed me with God only knows what kind of malicious intent. Maybe the guy just wanted to hold me still while he yelled at me? Maybe he planned on roughing me up a bit? I don’t know, and I honestly don’t care. An angry man twice my size had his hands on me, and my boss only cares about work? Or maybe it’s the raised voice accompanying the instruction to ‘man up’. Or some combination of all of it and then some.
Either way, I break, and I break hard.
Through sobs and hyperventilation, the only thing I can think to say -to repeat- is “I want Daddy.”
Chapter Nineteen – Spencer
“Your phone keeps going off out here,” Jake, the audio producer I’ve been working with for the last couple of days tells me as I wrap up a scene. “Like, non-stop for the last five minutes.”
I frown and pull off my headphones, already making my way out of the booth. “You couldn’t have said something a couple of minutes ago?” I ask him, trying not to sound too frustrated.
He shrugs and rolls his eyes, reminding me why I generally try to avoid working with him. “You were two minutes off finishing the scene. I didn’t think two minutes could hurt.”
Not wanting to fight with him over the whole concept of emergencies in general, I grab my phone from the desk beside his panel and frown at the number of missed calls. They’re from Ted. And Josh.
And Tanya.
My heart plummets into my stomach.
I dial Tanya back immediately.
“What happened?” I ask as soon as she answers, already reaching under Jake’s desk for my satchel and rummaging for my keys.
“It’s a long story,” she tells me, and she sounds exhausted.
“Summarize it.” Given how she sounds, I should probably have tried to be a little less gruff. Butobviouslythere’s something wrong with Tony and I’m worried, damn it.
She launches into a quick recap of what she knows about an altercation at the diner. When she gets to the part where the guy put his hands on my boy, I struggle to maintain my calm. “His new friends -yourfriends- were there,” she says while I clench my keys so tightly that I can feel them drawing blood in my palm, “turned up only a few seconds before the guy grabbed him. If they’d been any later…” Tanya sounds pained, and I can empathize. I don’t want to think of the possibility of a customer getting violent with Tony. Not now, not ever.
“Is he okay? Where is he?”
Jake’s scowling at me, but I’m not really paying attention to him.
Tanya’s answer is more important.
“He’s…” She begins tentatively, then exhales, and I swear my heart stops for a moment, “I mean, physically he’s fine,” I release the breath I was holding while she continues, “but he had some kind of anxiety attack and…”
“And?” I prompt.
“He’s…” She pauses. “He keeps crying for you. I can’t…” She exhales again, frustration bleeding into her tone. “Honestly, Spencer, I don’t know what to do here. I’ve never seen him like this.”
