Untamed

We’d just started filming the second to the last episode earlier this week, and it was already giving me a headache. It seemed like most of my scenes involved me standing in the room while other people talked. It was a waste of my talent, if you asked me. But the writers said my silence made my speeches more impactful. Whatever.

“It’s going,” I muttered. I popped open a beer, brought it to my lips, then changed my mind and offered the bottle to Harold. He had just called me friend, after all. With a small grimace, he shook his head and turned it down. Then his expression shifted to reluctance. It was subtle, but I saw it. “Something going on?” I asked, sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

“Nothing major, but I feel obligated to tell you…LMF has decided to go a different direction with their fall lineup, but not to worry, Acing It is slated for midseason replacement. That’s actually good news for us. Some of the greatest shows in history started out as replacements.” By the smile on his face, you’d think we’d just won the lottery. I wasn’t so sure.

“They’re pushing us back? This wouldn’t be because of the crap between the writers and shit, would it?”

Harold seemed surprised that I knew about that. His face immediately settled into a carefree expression though. “Oh no, of course not. All television shows have drama behind the scenes. It helps fuel the drama happening in front of the camera. But have no fear, Mr. Hancock, the show is moving forward perfectly. It’s just a matter of time before you’re on top of the world.”

“Okay…good.” Even as I said it, I couldn’t help but think I’d already been on top of the world with the D-Bags…but not really. I’d been on top, but in the backseat. Now, I was the driver.

Once we were done filming the six episodes LMF had ordered—a feat that I had doubted on more than one occasion would ever actually happen—the really fun stuff began. Parties, parties, and more parties. Say what you will about the entertainment industry, they sure knew how to wine and dine. The fluffy schmooze coming out of people’s mouths was as consistent as the alcohol going in. And everyone I met told me how incredible I was and how amazing this show was going to be. I was in heaven.

A

Shaking those thoughts out of my mind, I told her, “The network wants us to go. It’s good for the show…I guess. Fuck if I know why we really need to be there. All I know is it’s an open bar.”

Sighing, she muttered, “It always is.” Turning to look at me over her shoulder, she asked, “Chelsey is going to watch the kids tonight, right? As much as I like Carl…he’s not a babysitter.”

Our enormous closet was divided down the center by a long row of dressers. As I opened a drawer to pull out some clothes for tonight, I imagined laying A

A

She paused, like that was supposed to mean something to me. “Yeah. And?”

“She crossed out O

I shrugged. “She’ll get over it.”

A

“She’s two and a half. She’s not go

A

Not wanting to think about Kiera, or Kellan, or any of the others, I shook my head so hard my vision blurred. “Fine. I’ll talk to her.”

Grabbing my high-end duds, I dressed while A

After giving myself double shooter guns in the mirror, I headed to the bedroom. O

I looked to the closet, but A

Kneeling in front of O

I ran a finger over her forehead; her skin was so soft, it boggled my mind that anything could be that silky. It made me want to pick her up and hold her, which made me think, again, that maybe A

“Gibby picking on you, O

O

Turning around, I made my way to the living room to find my eldest daughter. She was standing in the center of the room with Carl/Alfred, trying to get him to play horsey. Alfred was just standing there, looking dignified and aloof, and I instantly knew what A

Gibson was holding a jump rope out to him and saying, “Horsey!”

Alfred, trying to remain professional, told her, “I have no idea what you’re saying, Miss Hancock, but if you’d like to jump over your rope, I’ll gladly walk out to the patio with you.”

Undeterred, Gibson lifted the rope higher. “Ride, horsey.” Her tone of voice said something akin to Do what I said right now, damn it! My girl did not like being told no.

Slapping Alfred on the back, I said, “She wants a ride, A-Man,” then I plopped down on my hands and legs and let out a long neigh, complete with a snort and headshake. Gibson giggled at my display, then scrambled onto my back. I helped her loop the rope under my armpits and around my chest. The first time we’d played this game, I’d put the “rein” in my mouth. Big mistake.