Love Unscripted

  I thought about what I would do if the situation were reversed. If I had his opportunities, would I be out there playing the field or would I want a relationship with one person? Well, that was an easy question to answer. Of course I’d want a meaningful relationship with one man. But men are different creatures.

  I peered at him through the corner of my eye. He was sitting at the wooden dining table drinking his coffee while trying to do the crossword puzzle in the newspaper. The famous celebrity who just won three awards for his acting skills was just sitting there in a wrinkled T-shirt and sweatpants. His bare feet were scrunched up on his toes, bouncing his heels up and down as he chewed on the tip of the pen.

  He had no idea of the damage he just caused in my brain. That little text message felt like just another nail in my coffin. He wasn’t interested in that one, but what would happen if he got another offer he simply couldn’t refuse?

  Ryan was beyond jealous of Kyle, hence why Kyle was dismissed from being my bodyguard so quickly. How easy it was for Ryan to eliminate the true competition with a simple phone call. Despite how attractive and sweet Kyle was, I used my brain and heart to rationalize my feelings.

  Men however don’t always think with the brain that sits between their ears. All too often it’s the little brain in their pants that they listen to. Would Ryan’s love for me stop him dead in his tracks before he listened to the devil that lived in his pants?

  “Shoot,” Ellen grumbled.

  I quickly turned my head in her direction. Her butt was sticking up in the air while she rummaged through the refrigerator.

  “I don’t have enough cream cheese,” she groaned.

  I tried to shake off my other thoughts.

  “What are you going to do with the turkey? I think it’s just about completely thawed.” I poked it with my finger. She had it setting in the other sink.

  “There’s no room in the fridge,” she announced. “I don’t know.”

  “You should soak it overnight in brine and ice. That will make it nice and juicy tomorrow.”

  She looked at me, perplexed. “Brine?”

  Ryan escorted me to his dad’s office so I could print off a recipe from the web. I really think he wanted to make sure I didn’t Internet surf while I had the chance.

  “Here’s the recipe.” I handed it to Ellen.

  “I have to run to the store. I don’t have some of these things.” She sounded stressed. “Janelle is bringing Sarah over soon. You two will have to watch her for me.”

  About twenty minutes later, Janelle came through the door with Sarah in one arm and a diaper bag containing an arsenal of baby supplies in the other. She was running late for her appointment.

  Ryan was on the floor playing with Sarah when Janelle darted out the door. He was helping Sarah stack up little wooden alphabet blocks. She was concentrating so hard; her angelic face showed her determination.

  I couldn’t help myself; the sight of him playing with the baby overwhelmed me. I shut the mixer off and joined them on the floor. Ryan patted me on the thigh a few times before clamping his hand down on my leg.

  “What do you say? Think you want one or two of these someday?” he mused, twisting his finger into Sarah’s ringlets.

  “I think you already know my answer.” I smiled.

  Ryan grinned widely. “Two would be cool.”

  “I’m surprised though,” I continued. “Someone in your position… I would have thought that having kids would be the last thing on your list.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  I was surprised that he questioned me. “I don’t know… you’re young. You’re a famous celebrity. You travel the world.”

  He rolled his eyes at me.

  “Sometimes I’m surprised that you even want a girlfriend. Why have one when you could have so many.”

  Ryan rolled onto his back and groaned. “Not this conversation again. I thought we were beyond this?”

  I took a deep breath and sighed. “Ryan, you’re only twenty seven. And you know damn well you can get any girl you want whenever you want. Hell, they even text their offers to you! There are women all around the globe who would pay to have sex with you. Before you talk to me about having children, are you sure you’re done sowing your wild oats?”

  He covered his eyes with his hand. “I can’t believe you’re asking me this,” he muttered to himself.

  “You’re a guy! That’s what guys do. Fast cars, fast women. I don’t want you to wake up next to me when I’m all pregnant and have regrets.” I teasingly squeezed the inside of his leg.

  He started laughing. “How much money do you think I could make from all these women who want to have sex with me?”

  “Billions!” I quickly replied.

  “Really? Help me drag a mattress out into the front yard. You can sell lemonade and I’ll just fuck people all day!” he cackled.

  The baby crawled over to Ryan and whacked him in the head with a wooden block.

  “Ow!” He rubbed his forehead. “You’re right, Sarah. That was a bad idea. Uncle Ryan’s junk will fall off if I did that all day.”

  She crawled onto his chest and slapped him a few times in the face.

  “Hey! Why are you beating me up? Huh? Do I have a potty mouth? Go beat up Aunt Taryn – she’s the one who’s being silly.” He picked her up in his hands and pressed her up into the air.

  Ryan sat Sarah on the floor and rolled to his side.

  “Sarah?” Ryan whispered a whole bunch of nonsense in her ear. “Tell her!”

  Ryan used his finger to make Sarah’s bottom lip move. His voice changed to a high pitch. “Uncle Ryan says he’s done sowing so you can just chill.”

  Ryan whispered in her ear again. “Uncle Ryan says you have to be married first before you have babies. And I stink so you should change me.”

  “Give her to me,” I requested, reaching out for her.

  I lay Sarah on the floor between my legs and grabbed the diaper bag. Ryan turned on the television, stopping on a channel just in time to hear some announcer say his name.

  “Today on CTV…”

  “We got Ryan Christensen in the airport in Providence with his new girlfriend.”

  Large graphics streamed across the screen and the announcer’s voice came back. Different embarrassing pictures of Ryan were flashed between the verbal comments. “Keep your panties on Seaside fans! Just when you thought you saw it all – Ryan Christensen eats – Ryan Christensen picks his nose – Ryan Christensen sits in a car – we bring you…”

  “We caught him feeling himself up.”

  Video of Ryan patting his front and back jeans pockets when we were in the airport in Providence was shown on the screen.

  “What’s up with this guy?” the obvious show host asked.

  “I don’t know but our camera guy caught him feeling himself up before he went through the metal detectors,” some young guy answered.

  “Feeling himself up?” the host questioned.

  “Yeah, he was searching his pockets and stuff. I mean what idiot goes to the airport with change in their pockets!”

  The video of Ryan patting his pockets now included me in the shot.

  “Do we know who the girl is? Is she an actress?” The host circled my picture on his video screen.

  “Her name is Taryn Mitchell. She owns a bar or something in Rhode Island.”

  They showed old, random photos of Ryan with different drinks in his hand, pretty much accusing him of having a drinking problem.

  “Wow, that’s impressive! Are all the girls in Hollywood dead?” the host sneered.

  Everyone on the television screen laughed.

  “I’m sure his fans hate her!” one woman commented.

  A clip from an old black and white movie was shown. All the townspeople had torches and pitchforks.

  Another girl chimed in. “She’s a lot prettier than Suzanne Strass, I think.”

  “Yeah, and she can help him turn into another celebrity alcoholic
!” some other man bantered.

  “Our camera guy asked him if they’re officially a couple but he didn’t say anything. He’s dragging her through the airport by the hand. I mean, isn’t it obvious? I don’t know why he just doesn’t admit it. She’s not his wardrobe consultant that’s for sure!”

  The picture refocused on me, on my face, and then zoomed in on Ryan holding my fingers as we walked through the airport. Sound bites of women crying were added in. The segment ended with repeat shots of Ryan feeling his back pockets and one more close-up of him shoving his hand in his front pocket. They even threw in sound effects of women moaning when Ryan patted himself down.

  I let out a sigh and lifted Sarah up so I could fix her yellow tights over her new diaper. I gave her a few kisses on her forehead while she played with my heart necklace.

  Ryan turned the television off and threw the remote onto the couch behind me. He looked like he just got punched in the stomach.

  I reached out to him. We were both upset from seeing that garbage on TV. Ryan slowly moved to sit next to me on the floor. We leaned back on the couch and looked at each other. Ryan rested his arm behind me, combing his fingers into my hair; his other hand gently rubbed through Sarah’s little brown curls. He sighed heavily and I knew he was agitated.

  I leaned over and kissed his lips, just to let him know that everything would be all right. His fingers tensed and pressed into my scalp, holding my kiss tenderly to his. His lips were troubled.

  I wondered which one of us would crack from the bullshit first.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon helping his mom in the kitchen. She was preparing a feast for Thanksgiving and I wondered just exactly who she thought was going to eat all of it. I handled making the brine for the turkey. His mom watched me intently as I mixed the concoction.

  I was standing at the sink when Ryan came up behind me, holding me in place again with his long arms. He brushed my hair off my shoulder and drifted the tip of his nose up and down my neck. I tried to keep the volume of my moan turned down.

  “As much as it warms my heart to see my son happy and in love, get the hell away from my helper,” Ellen squealed.

  “You’ve had her long enough, Mom. We’ve got to go get ready for the game. Our car will be here in an hour.”

  Soon after Nick and Janelle arrived, the sleek black stretch limousine pulled into the driveway. The four of us were going to the game together; Ryan’s parents were watching Sarah for the evening.

  “You should come home more often!” Nick teased Ryan, noting that the limo was fully stocked with beer, liquor, and two bottles of champagne. Janelle was preoccupied; eventually she pulled a magazine out of her purse.

  “Here, I thought you two might want to keep this one!” she teased and tossed the glossy paper onto Ryan’s lap.

  Ryan took a sip off of the champagne bottle he and I were sharing and narrowed his eyes on the cover. He handed me the bottle and turned the little light on above his head so he could get a better look.

  Ryan and I were on the cover – the entire cover. We were both dressed up and it was apparent to me that the photo was taken on the night we took his parents to dinner. The caption below our bodies read “Ryan’s in love!” Next to our photo were several side notes under the bold letters “Ryan Christensen shows off new girlfriend.” The additions informed the world that he was living with me in our “Love nest in RI” and that he had introduced me to his parents.

  “Well, at least it’s a nice picture of us!” Ryan stated indifferently.

  “The story isn’t bad either,” Janelle added. “I thought it was something you might want to keep, you know.” She looked unsure.

  Ryan handed it to me with a smirky grin on his lips. “I’m sure you want to read it.”

  I set the magazine down next to me on the seat and took another sip of champagne from the bottle. I could only imagine the horrible things that were said about me in there. It would only take seeing one negative comment about either one of us to send me into my own downward spiral.

  Ryan gave me a perplexed look. He presumed I would have ripped the magazine open immediately, dying to know what was written.

  “I’m not reading that now. I’d rather not cry my eyes out before a hockey game,” I whispered.

  “Why?” Janelle asked. “It’s not bad. Really!”

  I disagreed. “I just know there are lies printed in it. There always are. I’ve been blamed for breaking him and Suzanne up, for causing rifts on set between the actors. They print that I’m keeping him from seeing all of his friends. I even lost out on the national poll on which girl the public would rather see him with. Suzanne won with 72%.”

  I rubbed my cheek, trying to keep from getting upset.

  “Well there’s nothing like that in this one,” Janelle admitted.

  “I’m sure there is,” I muttered, pushing the magazine further away. It was the paper version of poison to me. “Every one of these writers seems to have the need to get at least one good dig in. I don’t understand why they feel I’m not good enough.”

  “Honey! Who gives a shit what they write?” Ryan stated. “I sure don’t.”

  “Let me see it,” Nick asked. “I’ll tell you whether or not it’s safe to read.”

  He quickly thumbed through the magazine, stopping to flash us the large interior picture of Ryan and me walking down my sidewalk, obviously ignoring the paparazzi.

  “Oh my God!” Nick looked over the top of the magazine. “It says here that you forced my brother to learn how to make stained glass picture frames! Is this true?” He looked horrified.

  Ryan laughed at his brother’s antics.

  “I have to admit, that one is true.” I nodded.

  “Does it say anything about her being mostly naked when she subjected me to a day of arts and crafts and power tools?” Ryan asked. All of a sudden his interest was piqued. “Are there pictures too, ‘cause I want those!”

  “No, no pictures like that,” Nick stated. He resumed reading.

  “What’s this? You…” he gasped, holding his shaky fingers in front of his mouth to emphasize his fright. “You bake birthday cakes - and then you had the audacity to make my parents eat it?” His voice changed to a high pitch to sound like he was crying and he cringed. “How could you?”

  Ryan gave me a teasing shove. “Yeah Taryn! How could you?”

  I hung my head down. “I’m sorry. I have no excuse for my actions,” I whispered.

  “No champagne for you!” Ryan took the bottle from my hand.

  “She even begged us to come to some birthday party in Rhode Island. We’re lucky I was traveling last week or else she would have subjected Janelle and me to more of these horrors!” Nick focused back on the magazine.

  Nick made me jump slightly when he gasped loudly. “Tell the limo driver to stop. We have to kick Taryn out. It says right here she’s just using my brother for sex.”

  Ryan sat up quickly. “That’s true! She forces me to…” He covered his eyes with the champagne bottle and pretended to cry, slumping back into the seat. “All the time!” he wailed. “And she beats me too! She says ‘you get naked and get in that bed or I’ll give you something to really cry about mister.’ I mean, I’m only human. I’m not a machine.”

  “Janelle beats me all the time,” Nick cried. “I feel so used.”

  “You wish!” she laughed.

  “I don’t know about you Janelle, but if I have to pick up his dirty socks and underwear I want something in return!” I defended.

  “I know!” she agreed. “The Christensen scent sure doesn’t smell like roses.”

  “Hey, we take pride in our scent!” Ryan argued.

  “If your fans only knew…” I replied. “Maybe they wouldn’t be standing so close to our doors.”

  “I thought your fans were too busy kissing their Seaside pillowcases to travel all the way to Rhode Island,” Janelle teased.

  “Go ahead and laugh, Janelle. I’m laughing all the way to the
bank.”

  “Pillowcases?” I questioned. I had no idea what she was talking about.

  “And bed sheets! Now girls all around the globe can sleep with Charles at night!” Janelle laughed.

  “I dry humped my Charles pillow just last night,” Nick chortled, making obscene gestures.

  Ryan threw the champagne cork at him. I gathered Ryan didn’t like that last dig, because Ryan threw the cork with some force. Nick flinched away, smiling.

  “I used the real Ryan Christensen as a sex toy last night,” I whispered in Ryan’s direction, trying to keep him in a good mood.

  Ryan gave me a high-five and winked at me. “Damn straight! And then I sprayed you with my personal scent to keep the other animals away!”

  Our limo drove past the main entrance to the arena, but the driver didn’t stop. Maybe he didn’t know where to drop us? We ended up stopping in the back of the arena near a few large buses. The driver opened Ryan’s door and we headed towards a private entrance. Ryan took me by the hand; I drew in a deep breath and followed him towards the back door. Ryan Christensen would never again enter through the front doors of any place like a regular person.

  Two arena employees were waiting for us, obviously aware that we were coming. We were escorted into an elevator that took us to the upper deck where all the private suites were located.

  “Whose suite is this?” Nick asked.

  “The bank I deal with has it rented for the season,” Ryan answered. “They gave up four of their tickets for us, but we won’t be alone. There are eight other tickets for this suite. All these suites are completely booked. This is as private as I could get.” I watched as he rubbed his forehead.

  “So we’re party crashing? That’s cool.” Nick belched and cracked open a beer.

  The suite was fully stocked with beer and wine and there was a hot buffet of food already laid out on a long table. Ryan and Nick dove right in, helping themselves to the assortment of food and snacks. The two brothers were already partially drunk and I was glad that Ryan was getting some food in his stomach.