Page 3 of Two Canes, One Cup
Reece raises an eyebrow watching him scurry out the door. “You’re too hard on the kid, he’s new,” he grumbles. “Most of those weren’t shit, you know it.”
I wag my finger at my best friend. “Don’t fucking scold me. Just because you’re older, doesn’t mean you’rewiser.”
He chuckles and runs his fingers through the thick graying whiskers on his jaw. “We’re about ready to wrap on it. You’re just wound too damn tightly. Ever since you and Debra split—”
My groan cuts him off. “Why say her name when I was in such a good mood already?”
I glance reflexively at the missing band on my ring finger.
Call me crazy, I was one of those suckers who loved being married.
Unfortunately, she also loved being wooed by vapid movie stars instead of staying loyal.
Weirdly, I almost would have been okay with an occasional tryst. She’s the one who wanted to walk away to be with Geoff Dublanc, Italian action star.
“Yea, you’re a jolly old elf. First thing I think of when I see you.” Reece snickers as he tosses his empty coffee cup in the garbage can. “Hey, since the show is going to be in post for the next few weeks, what do you say we take a trip like old times?”
Oh, that has me leaning back in my chair. “You mean like that time we went to Vegas and lost half a million on craps?”
“Nah.” The diamonds in his watch reflect the hostile LED lights from above the planning table. “Although, that was a fun weekend. I was talking about when we were younger and holed up for two weeks to bust out the screenplay for Bury the Shadows that ended up winning an Oscar?”
“Didn’t you meetyourex-wife that weekend?” I roll my eyes at him, shaking my head. “I have way too much to do.”
“Bullshit,” he snaps. “We need a reset. This—” He gestures at the smattering of notes across the extensive oak surface. “—is getting repetitive. We need to go back to where we started. Hell, we’re both flirting with forty now. I don’t want to be Coppella struggling to still produce hits at eighty.” His fingers thread behind his dark hairas he tilts to look at the ceiling. “I want to retire young on a beach somewhere. A pina colada in one hand, and the fine ass of a pretty woman in the other.”
That makes me snort.
“You don’t think we can find models and actresses everywhere? I’d rather have someone who wants me for who I am, not my damn bank account.” My elbows drop to the table. “Maybe we go on this little ‘retreat’ and play lowball with anyone we meet. No glitz. No freaking Rolexes—” I point emphatically at his wrist, knowing full well I wear one too. “I could use a break,” I admit. “I want to go where no one knows who I am.”
“Two broke bums on vacation,” Reece muses, his lips pursing. “I can get behind that. Might even be the premise of a good show.”
Chapter 3 -Reece
I’m ridiculously excited about this. It took me hours to comb through my closet to find my old t-shirts from college.
Rolling my luggage off the elevator from my suite, I’m surprised to see Dean leaning against the front of his Land Rover.
“I thought you sold this thing?” I’m pretty sure he bought this in high school with his graduation money.
The rust around the wheel wells betrays its age. “Does it even run well enough to drive to the mountains?”
Dean pats the hood with a look of adoration. “Oh yea, she runs like a champ. I had the whole thing rebuilt, I just couldn’t stand the idea of making it look shiny and new.” His thumb fondles one of the wrinkles in the metal. “Remember when we slid off the road and were stuck against that little tree? We had to saw at that thing for almost two hours to get free.”
I glance at my friend of two decades and shake my head with a smile. Looking at him now I’d never believe he was that half-cocked guy who had a touch of spite that wanted to set the world on fire.
He’s in good shape, but his hair is just a little too perfect, his nails manicured, and he’s dressed like he just stepped out of an L.L. Bean catalog.
Almost as if he’s trying too hard. Maybe this vacation will help him loosen up?
“I remember it was because you got a text from your ex that she’d go on that date with you.” My eyes roll in exaggerated exasperation. “That should have been a sign, buddy.”
With a grin, he balls his fist into my shoulder, then slams the rear door closed. “Screw you, she was great for a while. It’s just all of this—” He gestures towards my Madison Square apartment highrise. “—is what ruined it.”
“Hardly,” I snort in derision. “She’s the one who fucked it all up. But no more of that.” After I settle into the passenger seat, I pull out my phone to hook up to his audio system and find some old school rock. “We’re only reliving the good times, man.”
Well, with a fully stocked cabin of all the best food and high shelf bourbon.
I’m not going back to cheap ramen and hot dogs.
