Page 47 of Between Takes
“I’m so sorry. Our guests’ privacy is of the utmost importance and we have strict guidelines for our staff to follow.” He pressed his lips together, his eyes catching the waitress’s. He tilted his head towards a door at the side of the bar. “I’ll pull her aside for a chat now and make sure we get this all straightened out.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
With a firm nod, he turned away and marched down the bar where he met the ashen-faced woman. He led her into an office as I wandered back to our table, chewing on my lip. Had I done the right thing? What if she got fired because of me?
I walked back to my chair, catching snippets of Shaun and Ryan’s conversation, but not really paying attention. Something about Shaun’s Hollywood friends being tapped for a big film franchise.
“Are you okay, Sparky?” Shaun asked, catching my hand as I almost walked past them. I shook my head, trying to shake off the guilt. “Do you need me to do something? I can make quite the scene when I need to.” He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at his stupid joke. Of course he can make a scene.
Ryan laughed at him. “Glad fame hasn’t stopped you from being weird.”
Before I could reply, the manager approached, wearing a pained but apologetic smile. The waitress had been reprimanded, our meals were on the house and a bottle of champagne had been popped for the inconveniences.
Before anyone could protest, the bottle of champagne arrived on the table. Shaun tensed.
“Do you want me to get rid of it?” I whispered, trying to be discreet even though Ryan was far too close for him not to overhear.
Shaun glanced between me and Ryan, his brows furrowed as he tried not to look at the bottle.
He swallowed hard. “You can have a drink. I’m okay with my water.”
Drinking in front of an alcoholic felt like a very bad idea.
“I’m not thirsty.” I sat back, placing my hands in my lap.
Shaun’s gaze roamed my face. Something like relief swept across his features, and he nodded, gratitude shining in his eyes.
“I’m good too,” Ryan said, reading the situation with ease.
Shaun rolled his eyes. He leaned forward, whispering, “Just because I can’t handle a drink doesn’t mean you two have to go cold turkey too.”
Ryan and I shared a look, and I’m proud to say I understood it: Shaun was absolutely an idiot.
“I bet you didn’t think shit like this could ever happen to you when we were just two idiot teens building dens and planning our escapes,” Ryan said, trying to move the conversation along.
Shaun smirked at him but nodded. “Until my career took off, I didn’t believe any of those mad schemes of ours would work. Thought I’d be hiding out in the woods for the rest of my life.” Shaun chuckled, shaking his head at his younger self.
Ryan studied Shaun. “Your dad did you a huge favour.”
“By dying, you mean?”
Ryan glanced away. It didn’t seem to be a topic he liked discussing. I couldn’t blame him. It turned me sick too.
Shaun shrugged. “Only because I don’t have to deal with him blubbering to the press. I’d bet your Les Paul guitar that he would have sold his story to as many tabloids as he could.”
“That’s a given. No need to threaten my favourite guitar,” Ryan grumbled, eliciting a reluctant chuckle from Shaun.
We finished our waters and paid the bill soon after. The open bottle of champagne remained in the middle of the table, untouched and ignored. Shaun didn’t so much as peek at it, and I was incredibly proud of him. It was a tiny step, but recovery meant hundreds of tiny steps stacked together until you reached the end and found you’d climbed a mountain.
