Page 3 of Just for the Holidays
He was ruthless, too. If Manolo thought this wasn’t the right kind of project for Gael, he’d do whatever it took to keep it off his nephew’s radar. And the truth was this was a passion project for everyone involved. They wouldn’t tolerate egos in this production. The hope was that the expected accolades and critical acclaim would be an incentive for the bigger Hollywood names they were attempting to sign on—Manolo would never see it that way.
And Perla should be glad for Manolo’s shitty ways because that meant she wouldn’t have to deal with Gael. Except the more she thought about it, the more she agreed with Pedro and Violeta’s assessment that he was the right actor for the part. What was more, she knew this was the kind of project Gael would’ve loved to be a part of. In college, when he’d been the darling of the drama school, this would’ve been a dream for Gael. Being Puerto Rican, he longed to play the kinds of roles that allowed him to represent his roots, even if he’d decidedly strayed from that as his career took off. And like the fool she had always been when it came to that man, the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “Gael’s a friend. I bet I can talk him into taking the part. I’ll give him a call.”
Esmeralda and Rodrigo’s stunned silence was somehow louder than the delighted cheers coming from Pedro and Violeta.
Once the call was done Perla’s pulse still raced as she reckoned with what she’d done. She’d practically assured them she could secure Gael. She hadn’t seen or talked to the man in six years. Since he’d come to her apartment on Christmas Eve and told her he’d finish the last semester of school online because he’d gotten a role in a new show. Then he’d dumped her with the excuse of needing to focus on his career. Even after all this time, she could barely recall the details of what he’d said. The pain of his betrayal still fogging her recollection of that horrible night. She sometimes wished the same fog would blur the two years before that. That she could forget how happy she’d been with him. But the memories of what she’d lost were still intact, and just as insidious as the pain of losing Gael had been.
“You don’t have to do this, hermana.” Esmeralda’s uncertain tone shook Perla out of her thoughts. “I’ll call Violeta and Pedro myself and tell them they need to go with someone else.” Perla felt queasy and furious at herself for still letting the mere thought of him get to her like this.
God, she could not believe she’d put herself in this situation. But this was just like her, to try and please people, even if it came at the cost of her own peace of mind. Still, this was her job. She oversaw the casting of this project, a show she knew could be the talk of the awards season next year if they cast it well. She wanted them to have the best possible actors, not just for the sake of popularity, but because Francisco Rios deserved to have someone in that role who understood the man they were playing. Who got the size of the shoes they were attempting to fill.
Perla smiled at her sister through the tightness in her throat, trying to express as much gratitude as she could for Esmeralda’s wanting to make this easier. “It’s okay, Esme. I can do this. I shouldn’t have said I could talk Gael into taking the role,” she admitted. “But I can give him a call.”Or give someone in his camp a call, because I don’t know if I can handle hearing his voice. Or maybe I’ll just dial up my old college roommate, who I iced out without explanation after her twin brother broke up with me.
“If you’re sure,” Esme said, the concern coming through in her voice.
“I am.” Perla attempted to infuse her voice with confidence, trying to reassure her sister and herself. “Honestly, it’s not a big deal. Gael and I are not super close anymore, but we’re not enemies.” Friends didn’t exactly go six years without speaking a word to each other, but Perla hoped her sister didn’t know her well enough to tell she was lying through her teeth.
“Okay,” Esme relented, but Perla clearly saw the concern on her sister’s face. “But if you change your mind, call me.” She waved a hand then, her eyes widening as if remembering something important. “Or better yet, you can tell me in person when you’re here.”
Perla’s mouth tugged up at that. Last year had been the worst Christmas of her life—well, the second worst. Her mother and brother had shunned her after she’d gone against them by selling her shares to the studio. The decision had thwarted their plans to destroy her father’s legacy, and they’d stopped speaking to her after that. She’d ended up spending the holidays completely alone—in a Swiss chalet in the Alps, but still, alone. But this year she was going to Punta Cana with Rodrigo and Esmeralda. Esme’s mother and aunties would be there, too. Perla had been looking forward to it for months. The idea of being around people who actually wanted her there, with people who liked being aroundeach other, made her chest radiate with warmth.
“By the time you wake up tomorrow, I’ll be there. I’m taking the jet out of Westchester. We leave at 11:00 p.m.” She couldn’t wait to be on the beach, even though she’d miss the snow. She was a New York girl, after all, and loved seeing a white Christmas morning. But this year the blanket of white would have to come from the sandy beaches of the Dominican Republic.
She said her goodbyes and sat there for another minute, considering her options. She didn’t know what prospect would be worse, to call and have Manolo send some lackey to rebuff her, or actually get a response from Gael. Just the possibility of hearing his voice made her nauseated. She breathed through the jittery energy that was threatening to overwhelm her. There were no two ways about it—and the more she delayed it, the worse she would look when she had to break it to the production team that she had not in fact been able to secure Gael Montez for the project. She grabbed her phone and stared at it for a long moment, considering what to say on the off chance she got ahold of Gael himself. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad? It was business, after all. Gael could not begrudge her trying to woo him to the project. Itwasher job. Yeah...it would be fine. She’d call, put forth the offer and hope they accepted.
Maybe if she kept telling herself that, she’d start believing the lie.
She tapped on her phone and the screen came to life with an image of Perla and Esmeralda with their arms around each other at the studio’s holiday party just a week earlier. She had to do this. For her sister, and for herself. This was her job now. And dammit, she would do it. Gael would understand that better than anyone. How couldhejudgeherfor putting her job ahead of personal feelings after the way he’d treated her? Still, she couldn’t help but send a prayer up asking for a Christmas miracle.
Just as she was about to search in her contacts for Gael’s old number, the screen of her phone lit up with a phone number she never thought she would see again.
Two
“Gabi?” Perla asked, scarcely able to believe Gael’s sister was calling her. Had she summoned her with all her fretting?
“Hey, Perla. Do you have a minute?” Gabi sounded more than a little apprehensive, and knowing that her old friend wasn’t unaffected by reaching out after so much time eased Perla’s nerves. The two of them had only spoken a few times since she and Gael split. The last time it had been when Perla found out Gael’s mother was sick. Perla had loved Gael, but she’d adored his mother, too. Veronica was always good to Perla and when she’d heard the older woman had fallen ill, she’d called Gabi to ask if she could come see Veronica at the hospital. Gabi had been grateful for her concern and told Perla she could come whenever she liked, but other than that, she’d kept her distance. So yeah, this call was a surprise.
“Hey, how’s your mom doing?”
“She’s good. Much better, thanks for asking.”
Perla could hear the smile in Gabi’s voice. Both she and Gael were devoted to their mother. If there was a pang of longing tugging at her heart for the warmth and joy she’d experienced with the Montez family, Perla would ignore it. There was nothing for her there. Gael had made that very clear six years ago.
“How can I help you, Gabi?” She tried to sound nonchalant, but even she could hear she failed.
“I’ve been told you’re in charge of casting for the Francisco Rios series.” Gabi was nothing if not direct.
“I am,” Perla answered, stretching out the words.
“Between you and me, Gael may be interested in the role.” Perla’s pulse kicked up like she’d been given a shot of adrenaline, and she could not for the life of her tell if it was because she was happy or terrified about what this could potentially mean. She didn’t have time to dwell on it; Gabi’s urgent tone brought her back to the conversation. “The issue’s Manolo. He’s hell-bent on passing up on it. Saying it’s not going to be good for his image,” she scoffed. “Whatever the hell that means. And like always, my brother listened to him.”
Perla knew that it was a lot more than just Gael’s listening to Manolo, his uncle. She knew Manolo had stepped in to care for their family when Gael’s dad abandoned them, leaving his wife with ten-year-old twins to support on her own. Veronica, who had been a stay-at-home mom until then, had been forced to go to work. In a gesture of solidarity, her brother-in-law Manolo had packed up from Puerto Rico and helped raise the twins. Gael felt like he owed his uncle, and that was not something he took lightly.
But Gabi had also confirmed what she’d suspected: Gael wanted this role. And unless he was a completely different man than he’d been six years ago, she knew he would likely take it.
Gael listened to Manolo because as long as his uncle took care of the “business side” he could focus on the only thing he really cared about—his craft. Success was never really about the money for him; it was about mastering what he did, about reaching the very top of his field. The possibility of being a contender for a best actor nomination with a role playing a Puerto Rican legend would be too tempting for Gael, even if it went against his uncle’s advice. More than anything, Gael wanted a legacy, and he had to know that superhero movies could only take him so far when it came to claiming his star on the Walk of Fame.
“What do we do to convince him?” Perla heard herself ask.
