Hi, you might want to read chapter one first.
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TWO. HE KISSED MY GIRL AND...
Matt Mason must have been watching for us to enter because he sprang to his feet almost immediately and walked a suave sway toward us, his eyes set only for my Rebecca.
"Becky!" He extended his hands to take hers, and then pulled her in for a close hug as they nudged cheeks. She reciprocated and puckered her lips in an air smack.
I cringed. He called her Becky, and she hated that short version of her name. Said it sounded childish and demeaning.
"Hi Matty." She chirped.
What, they both had cute pet names!?
"Matty, this is my husband, Kevin, who I'm sure you must know."
"Kev, bro... how yo hanging man? Great script, really solid stuff there Kev." He grinned that freaking smirk and gripped my hand in a purposeful attempt to crush my knuckles. Yeah I'm a writer, not a fighter tough guy. And I hate 'Kev' and I knew he knew it. I smiled a plastic smile back. I will never be your bro, smart-ass!
"Hey, come over and sit at my table." He guided Rebecca toward the vacated bench and invited her to sit. Neither gave me a backward glance! She tucked her little skirt under her ass and slid into the booth as his big paw of a hand guided her at mid-spine central. It didn't help my demeanor that Rebecca's dress was mostly backless and she was obviously bra-less beneath it.
"Hey Kev bro, why don't you grab us all some drinks." He pulled a wad of folded notes from his pocket and peeled three out like they were monopoly tender and slid them across the table before he followed Rebecca into the booth. I hated this bastard!
The line to the bar was three deep. Shit...
"Hi Kevin!" A chirpy voice announced Sally Fielding. She was the cute makeup artist on set and we'd met a few times previously. Rebecca thought the world of the girl and they were likely best friends. "It's really good to see our writer. I love the script and so does the population. You have a hit here Kevin, congratulations!" She beamed with true enthusiasm.
"Thanks Sally. It's nice to hear positive feed-back." I smiled a little uncomfortably. I was glancing over her shoulder at my wife, now talking animatedly with her co-star. She leaned in close and seemed to whisper something amusing. Sally turned to follow my line of sight.
"They're good together aren't they?" She hesitated and looked alarmed. "I mean they act well together, and they seem to be able to portray a certain 'chemistry' on set."
I wanted to get back there, desperately! Rebecca raised her eyes and scoped me out, smiled a little shyly, then finger waved me and leaned in close to Matt and whispered once more. They both cracked up. I felt sick! Fuck, what was the hold up here!
Finally I loaded my tray and set off.
"I'll catch up with you later Kevin." Sally called to my retreating ass.
"Oh, yeah, sure, see you Sally." I bee-lined over to my wife... and him.
"Wow, that took a while bro." Matt accepted the beer. No thank you or cursory acknowledgement. Just grabbed the glass and gulped down a generous chug. I found myself sitting in the opposite seat as the two co-stars. They sat uncomfortably close (uncomfortable for me) whilst I sat straight and stiff waiting for Rebecca to acknowledge me and perhaps excuse herself and come around to sit with me; her husband. Truth be-known, I already wanted to go home. Matt tuned to me and examined me like I was an interesting bug.
"We had a good wrap today. That was a great episode. It's starting to get real hot and heavy now. Hubby doesn't have a clue that his pretty little wife is fucking her big hunky neighbor behind his back. I like were the story is going bro. The kissing scenes were way cool, but I reckon the bedroom scenes will be awesome." He grinned that shit eating lopsided smirk and raised his glass. "To 'Missionary Man' and future success!"
Rebecca clinked her glass with his and giggled girlishly. "Too 'Missionary Man' and scandalous sex!"
I felt squirmy...
There was a live band playing and the slow blues music had settled the rowdy crowd.
"Hey Becks, want to dance?" Matt the player half pulled my wife from the booth. Was she resisting?
"Thanks Matty, I'd love too. You don't mind do you honey?" She clambered out after him like free ice cream was on offer and tugged her tiny party skirt down to cover her stocking tops.
"Well, I..."
They swayed off to the beat holding hands and occasionally colliding hips, heading toward the dance floor. I was simmering with an equal dose of rage and lust. Where had the latter come from? I watched them then, dancing up close and personal through two sets. They occasionally bumped pelvis's, then hugged a little to close and my wife's pretty head fell a little too often against the assholes huge hard chest. When one big hand sank over her ass I trembled and considered getting up and cutting in, only to shrink back into my seat and curse the fact that I have no idea how to dance... nor how to shield my raging hard-on. I was a seething mess when they returned laughing and chatting like old friends. I guessed they were... old friends... having to spend nearly every hour of the day in each other's vicinity, sometimes kissing and...
"Hey bro, this little woman can dance! She's nearly worn me out already. Might have to take a break for a bit before she drags me back out there." He guided Rebecca back into the seat opposite again and sat, finished his beer, now surely lukewarm and grinned. "I'll load us up again. What's ya poison bro?"
I hoped the queue was six deep. "Ah, a Jack, straight up."
"Another Sauvignon for the lady?" The lady nodded happily. He lumbered away fishing for his wad. I didn't bother to offer.
"Are you okay honey?" My wife inquired. "You look a little off color. You don't mind me dancing do you? I like to dance and Matt is a pretty good dancer, isn't he?!" She appeared excited; certainly showing no apparent concern for my 'color'.
"No, it's fine, but I don't feel too good. Can we go?"