Catch a Tiger by the Tail Read online

  A friend with three screenplays optioned had only one made into a film. They’d altered it so much her original story had been unrecognizable. Then the film had flopped. Now she was back to making lattés and shopping around another couple of projects. Remaining undaunted in the face of so much rejection had strengthened her. She’d make it, she was sure.

  I wished her well. One of her works had piqued my interest, but I hadn’t had the resources to move forward on the project. Maybe I should’ve helped more.

  “Peter.”

  Shit. I wasn’t usually inattentive. “It’s the sun.”

  Lisette snickered. She had those glasses that turned dark when they came into bright light.

  Her eyes were protected while mine were exposed and vulnerable. I glanced up, squinting. I needed to stop obsessing about the heat. “Your project has changed.” See, I was listening.

  “The head of development left—friend of that guy. You remember, right?”

  Another powerful man felled by the Me-Too movement. Never had I been more grateful for a group of women deciding to speak out. I’d seen a few things over the years. Had even spoken out once or twice in the face of some egregious behavior. Truthfully, I’d turned my back more often than I’d want to admit. I had my career to watch out for. It galled me I didn’t do more. I’d tried to support the women coming forward, all the while knowing my own culpability.

  “So he’s out and…” I wracked my brain. “Didn’t Susan Miller step into that role?”

  Lisette’s grin was wider than anything I’d ever seen.

  “Yes, my friend, she did. I waited all of five days before approaching her. She took a meeting with me and agreed I could go back to my original concept.”

  “Am I out of a job?” Losing this gig wouldn’t be the end of the world. I wasn’t doing it for the money and could find another gig. I wasn’t above taking smaller roles. I just wanted to keep working. Stopping wasn’t an option right now.

  “Oh, petit chou, not a chance.”

  Seriously, cabbage? At this moment that didn’t feel reassuring.

  “Let’s just say you’ve got a new lead actor.”

  Wow, hadn’t seen that coming. Lindy Doshi wasn’t a household name, but she’d put in several solid performances in indie films over the past half-dozen years. This film was her chance to go wide, and Lisette was taking it away? She must have her reasons, but part of me wanted to fight the injustice. “And Lindy?”

  Lisette swiped her hand through the air. “She’s getting a good supporting role, and I’m securing her an audition for a new streaming series. She’ll be fine.”

  Yeah, good roles in streaming these days could net more exposure than even a blockbuster film, and this project of Lisette’s would never be big. Still, something wasn’t right.

  “Who is my new co-star?”

  “Cole Hamilton.”

  Wait…what? What the actual fuck?

  “This movie’s still a romance, right? Or did they rework the whole plot?” What the hell was going on?

  “Relax, it’s still a romance. Just…” Lisette broke eye contact and looked out toward the mountains.

  The North Shore Mountains they were called. I’d gone up Grouse Mountain two summers ago, taking the gondola to the peak. A more breathtaking view I couldn’t remember seeing. Clear through to the States including Mount Baker, a dormant volcano in Washington State. I’d grown up in Marble Falls, Texas. No great mountain ranges there. Just lots of cattle.

  “Just?” Jesus, she was killing me.

  “It’s now a gay romance.”

  Oh…shit…

  “Like Brokeback Mountain?” The go-to movie to mention when talking gay in Hollywood. There’d been plenty of others, but this one resonated—all those Academy Award nominations and all. Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal. Big. Really big.

  Lisette swatted my arm. Hard. I flinched but held my tongue.

  “No, not like Brokeback Mountain. Our story has a happy ending, remember?”

  Vaguely. Oh, I’d read the script, but since I’d known I was taking the role, I hadn’t paid as much attention as I might’ve had it been a cold read. Lisette told me I was doing the film, so I’d read to get an idea of what was expected of me. Happy ending? Yes, for sure. But the couple went through a lot of shit to get there, if memory served. I mentally kicked myself for not having done my due diligence. One thing slammed to the fore of my mind.

  “There are sex scenes.” Several very explicit ones. That much I remembered.

  “Cole is a professional. And it’s not like you’ll be new to this.”

  Jesus Fucking Christ.

  “I…” How was I supposed to answer that?

  “You did that movie with Carmen, remember?”

  As if I could forget. That sex scene had been…gymnastic was the word that came to mind. And I’d been the submissive to her aggressive and animalistic character. No, I wasn’t likely to ever forget that experience. Two full days of filming to get a three-minute scene. Longest two days of my life. “Okay, but Carmen was a woman.” Wasn’t this obvious?

  Lisette removed her glasses, startling me. She placed a hand on my cheek and met my gaze head-on. “If you want to stay in the closet for the rest of your career—the rest of your life—that’s your choice. Personally, I think Desmond did you a disservice by letting you hide your relationship. Do people have the right to know your business? Of course not. But you loved him, and he didn’t let you show that. To anyone.”

  Words failed me. As if I could’ve gotten them past the lump in my throat anyway.

  “You’re wondering how I knew.” She slid her glasses back on. “He told me. After he was diagnosed with cancer, he flew up here to meet with me.”

  I remembered there’d been a trip before he’d told me he was dying, but not after. That meant I hadn’t been the first person he told. “He came up here? Before talking to me?”

  “He did.” Lisette pulled on the ends of her vest, straightening it. “I knew him before I knew you. He wronged you, Thomas. No one knew about the two of you, which is surprising in this day and age. Everyone has a cell phone.”

  “We never left his house.” There, the painful truth. I hadn’t even been invited to move in, and I rarely spent the night, let alone any significant time. And, pathetic chou that I was, I took whatever scraps he deigned to give me. Meanwhile we went to premieres and award shows separately. Each of us with a beautiful woman on our arms. I hated it but fortunately had a few close female friends who enjoyed the notoriety. We used each other, so that made it okay.

  Right?

  “Lisette, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but now’s not the right time, you know?”

  “You’re forty-two, petit chou. When are you going to come out? When you’re a hundred? Or maybe, like Desmond, never. That’s one way to do it, I suppose.” She flicked her hand again. “Think of all the young people who could see you as a role model. You’ve been big on the environmental front—what if you were at the forefront of the LGBTQ movement?”

  Seriously? “There are many who have come before me and some who are even doing it as we speak.” Jim Parsons, Zachary Quinto, and Neil Patrick Harris were the first three who came to mind, although there were others.

  “Yes, but how many are A-list bankable action superstars?”

  I wanted to argue with her portrayal of me and my career, but she wasn’t wrong. I was near the top of the pile, and putting me on the marquee of a film guaranteed a certain intake in the box office. How much of that was me and how much was the movie might be a point of debate, but my films had been close to top grossing for the past several years. So, yeah, I was bankable. I was an action star. I might even be on the A-list these days. But things like that were ethereal and fleeting. On top one day, a has-been, washed-up nobody the next. “Cole Hamilton?” A guy flying high these days. He was the star of Vigilante Justice, a show in prime time on one of the major networks. Hot shit, as they’d say. So why a supporting ro
le in this little film? “Wait, does he know it’s a gay romance?”

  “Absolument.”

  As if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe it was. Maybe I was overthinking this. Just because I was going to play a gay man, didn’t mean I had to come out of the large and comfortable closet I’d been inhabiting for the past forty years. If Desmond had asked, I’d have come out to make our relationship legitimate, but he was dead, and saying anything now gained me nothing. Being gay didn’t carry the same shame it used to, but it still wasn’t something everyone was proud to own.

  “Do I have a say in this?”

  Lips pursed, Lisette eyed me. “Of course you do. There’s a clause in your contract that if there are significant changes, you can leave. I don’t want you to, but I’ll understand if you do. I love you, but this is the project of my heart. I loved Desmond too, you know. Not in the romantic sense, of course, but with my whole soul. I miss him. Again, not like you, but the hole is there. Although I won’t out him, this is for his memory as much as any other reason.”

  I wanted to call bullshit. After having said she’d had this project for a long time, she was now saying the project was to pay homage to Desmond? I didn’t buy it. All that being said, I’d be a fool to give up this opportunity. “I’ll do it.”

  Her smile was wider than I would’ve predicted. Had she believed I’d balk and walk? Well, I was a man of my word, and that meant completing this project. “When’s the read-through?”

  Chapter Three

  “Holy shit.”

  Janine’s arched eyebrow was a warning I ignored. We were a film crew, and foul language abounded. Hell, Lisette was one of the raunchiest on set. I’d worked for a season with her helming Vigilante Justice, so hearing epithets was part of my daily work. I did my best not to be at the end of her barbed stick, but even I wasn’t perfect.

  “At least keep your voice down, Thomas.” Her hiss carried across the room where we were setting up the tables in a small square. This movie was a two-hander with a few other smaller roles. No, the two leads carried the vast majority of the work. Yesterday the two top people had been Lindy and Peter. Today? Peter and Cole Hamilton.

  Cole Hamilton. Another sex-on-a-stick actor. Tall, black longish hair, piercing deep-blue eyes, and a killer smile. He was destined to make the sexiest man list one day. Peter had been a runner-up two years ago and should’ve been at the top. But they alternated seasoned folks with up-and-comers. Peter was still in the middle. Not quite a Hugh Jackman or Idris Alba, and not a young Ben Affleck or Chris Hemsworth. Sexier, as far as I was concerned, but no one asked me.

  I picked up a script and skimmed it. Yep, two male leads. How long this had been in the works, I had no idea. What had Lindy been told? Man, that had to be rough. Hopefully something else would come up.

  “You have the coffee ready?”

  Part of me wanted to snort, but Janine was just…being Janine. “Four carafes. Three regular, one decaf. I also have the kettle full, eight different teas, and ice water at the ready.” Of course I did. This was my job. A job I took seriously. Did I fuck up? Yes, especially in the early days. Now everything was by the list and schedule. I wasn’t at the point of being able to create them myself yet, but that time was coming. Despite my laissez-faire attitude, I had ambition. I loved being an assistant’s assistant, but I wanted more responsibility.

  Janine waved me off as she did a final count of the chairs. Six around the table and nine on the outer perimeter. We wouldn’t need all of them, by any means. Lisette and the producer had the final say on who stayed and who was sent on their way. I hoped to be staying.

  Cole Hamilton arrived first. I’d known him for a long time. Before we started working on Vigilante Justice, he’d done a few films I’d crewed.

  “Thomas.”

  I held out my hand which he grabbed, then leveraged me into a bear hug. Wanted and welcomed, of course. We had that kind of relationship.

  “How are you?” I pulled back but lingered a moment longer than necessary. Cole’s presence was always solid and comforting. The kind of guy someone could talk to openly because he never put on airs—he’d chat with anyone. The celebrity thing hadn’t taken hold yet, and I doubted it ever would. If being the lead of VJ hadn’t changed him, likely nothing could.

  His grin was quick and easy. “Better since Lisette called me for this gig. Man, I’m stoked.”

  His eyes were bright with obvious happiness. Even more so than normal. Nothing ever got this man down. Perhaps because of where he’d come from. He didn’t talk about it, but I’d read an in-depth article a few years ago about how he’d been brought up by his dad and how it hadn’t been an easy childhood. He hadn’t shared those details to get sympathy, although he could’ve garnered it easily enough. No, he wanted other kids to see he’d found a way out. For him it’d been education. Working two jobs to get through theater school and then several years working as an actor on stage, an extra in movies, and eventually bit parts. He’d worked his way up, never playing on his looks. The man was a solid talent.

  Oh, those looks. A woman—or man—could get lost in those blue eyes. Stunning in photographs, but even more disarming in person. They were like Peter’s in their intensity. An ocean blue versus sea green.

  Shaking myself mentally, I smiled. “Coffee?”

  His matching grin was wide. “Only if you made it.”

  A joke between the two of us. He swore I made the best coffee, and I, not being inclined to drink the shit, couldn’t argue. He wasn’t the first person who’d complimented me, which confused me. Put coffee in machine, turn it on, press a button. Who could fuck that up? “I made it just for you.”

  His eyebrow arched as I’d known it would. He was an irreverent flirt and had made it clear we were all free to give it right back. In fact, he enjoyed the game. Janine wouldn’t play, but Tanya had gone a few rounds with him. All in fun, of course. Heading to the food table, I snagged a mug and poured from the carafe. I was adding the cane sugar he loved when Peter walked through the door.

  A moment suspended in time. The men caught sight of each other at the same time, and everything seemed to fall away.

  Cole moved first, holding open his arms, apparently unafraid of rejection. Not that he needed to worry. Peter stepped into the embrace as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He wound his arms around Cole’s waist and allowed himself to be enfolded into a hug. Not a bro-hug but a true, deep, and meaningful embrace.

  I swore Peter sagged into the hold, as there wasn’t an inch of space between the two men.

  Cole grasped the back of Peter’s head, tugging the man even closer, if that was possible.

  In front of me was perhaps the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. Oh, I’d seen plenty of people hugging. For the most part, despite the chill across the industry about respecting personal space, consensual affection still took place. But this was much more than that. An intimacy existed between the two men that I rarely saw. It reminded me of my parents when I was growing up. Two people completely in tune with each other, sharing a closeness that was more of fairy tales than real life.

  “Stop gaping.”

  Janine’s hiss was directly in my ear, and no one else could hear it, but it brought me to attention. Well, that wasn’t the only part of me coming to attention. My cock had taken notice of the scene. As romantic as it’d been, an undercurrent of sex permeated. Probably just my imagination, but I tugged at my jeans and gave my prick a stern talking to.

  The men finally broke apart, but Cole held tight to Peter’s head. Leaning over, he pressed a kiss to the shorter man’s forehead. “Nice to meet you.”

  Meet?

  Hell, I’d assumed they were former lovers. I mean, I understood acting. I got that. But the intimacy had been palpable—it’d permeated the room. And had been all for show.

  Peter feathered his hand through Cole’s hair. “Glad to finally make your acquaintance.”

  There were times I assumed all f
amous people knew each other. That being said, Cole tended to stay grounded in Vancouver while Peter’s career had taken him all around the world. His home base, if I was correct, was in a suburb of Los Angeles.

  A squeal from the doorway caught all of us off-guard, and I nearly spilled coffee on myself, I spun so quickly. Lindy Doshi burst into a run and threw herself into Cole’s arms. He caught her easily, grabbing her ass as she wound her legs around his hips.

  Talk about personal space and lack thereof. These two had been in theater school together and friends for over ten years. Still, there was excitement, and then there was…brashness? Exuberance? I searched for a word and came up short. Ha, look at Peter. I wasn’t the only one with my head cocked.

  Cole held Lindy as closely as he had Peter, but it felt different. They embraced as friends, not lovers. But if what the two men had shared hadn’t been real, how was I supposed to interpret this? As Lindy’s legs loosened their grip on Cole’s hips, she slid down his body, and eventually her feet hit the floor. He kissed her forehead much as he had Peter’s, but it was more fraternal. Like a salute between long-lost friends or close siblings.

  Flushed, Lindy turned to Peter and held out her hand. “I’m Lindy.”

  His amusement looked genuine as he shook her hand. “Peter.”

  “Oh, I know who you are. You’re my big brother.”

  What…? Oh, yeah. Peter’s character had a younger sister who played matchmaker. If Lindy had been offered that role, what had happened to the woman scheduled to take it? My head spun.

  Cole glanced over and met my gaze. He moved quickly, rescuing the coffee mug from me. “Lindy, Peter, this is Thomas. He makes the best coffee in town.”

  About three hundred professional baristas had just been highly insulted. My cheeks heated as I stammered, “Can I get you something?”

  “I like mine black.” Peter’s request.

  “I’ll make my own.”

  Lindy squeezed my arm as she passed me, heading toward the table. I was quick on her heels, wanting to observe how she made her coffee. Being able to replicate her drink might come in handy. She took several massive dollops of cream and about five sugar packets. Okay, so not too concerned about calories. She must love lattés like I did. I poured Peter’s coffee and almost ran into him when I turned. He was right there, mere inches from me.