Chapter 3 — Karina Has Arrived

Karina frowned. The refusal was at the tip of her tongue, but Antonio was faster.

“You arrived just before the roads became impassable, either by foot or by land transport. Even if you have an aircraft, you won’t be flying ether because the visibility is poor. How the hell did you get here anyway?”

“The snowmobile broke down a few miles away.” Karina’s legs were still aching from the trek through thick snow. “I walked.”

“The town is over an hour and a half away. You used that from there?” Antonio’s forehead wrinkled in puzzlement.

“No.” Karina strode to the sideboard to get the brandy. She was going to have a hangover that would make the devil weep. “My pilot came on to me. Visibility has been tricky all day. He offered to take me here.” She shuddered in revulsion from the memory. “He didn’t make an inappropriate pass at me or anything, but he was clear about what he wanted from me. I told him to take a hike.”

“Huh. You went full bitch on him, didn’t you?” He grinned. “I would have wanted to see that.”

“Well, if you had, that makes one more person who knows what a stupid ass I was. I forgot about my stuff in the plane. He still has them. He expects me early tomorrow morning to give flying a try.” Karina hoped he thought the blush on her cheeks was from the alcohol instead of embarrassment.

“Yet you were leaving?”

“I could walk back into town.” She answered in a small voice. She didn’t realize how far town was. She thought it was just a few miles!

Antonio snorted. “You are a stupid ass.”

He took the brandy from her and shoved it back in the shelf. As she finished her drink, he said, “You’ll want to get out of those clothes.” He pointed towards the stairs. “Bathroom’s in my bedroom. To your right. Help yourself with whatever’s in my closet.” Peering at her critically from head to toe, he added, “You look like you could use something hot.”

“I-I’d love a bath, if possible,” she admitted, feeling her neck go warm.

“Help yourself. I’ll scrounge up a meal for you. Bring you tea. You’re not vegan or anti-gluten or into paleo shit, are you?”

She shook her head.

“Good. Because there’s none of that in here and if you were any of these things, it’s your death and it won’t be in my conscience.”

She watched him turn and head for the kitchen without a backward glance. It was tempting to scratch her head, but it wouldn’t make what just happened any clearer.

It had been less than five minutes ago when they were at each other’s throats, both determined to win. Hell, her throat still hurt. Then Antonio asked her to stay, and he was suddenly concerned, dark eyes scanning her intently from head to toe. It had been dizzying, the shift from growling man to…she didn’t know what to call it. Then just as she has settled with herself that he was simply being a decent human being, he turned around and did the equivalent of kicking her in the shins by telling her he wasn’t going to do anything to accommodate her if she had any special food requirements. If she had them, she wouldn’t be the diva expecting him to do that, but the change stung.

Karina pulled off her boots. As petty retaliation, she left them right there in the middle of the room before going up the stairs.

She first saw the study at the top of the floor. The room was small, and the paint was a faded blue-gray. The desk looked new and was very modern with sharp, streamlined edges. It held a laptop computer and an external hard drive. Behind it was a narrow shelf crammed with peeling paperbacks.

The bedroom had a tufted, king-sized bed in gray. The pillows and the sheets were only slightly rustled. Except for a small pile of used clothes on the bench at the foot of the bed and more on a chair, this room appeared hardly in use. She sniffed, detecting the mild spice of an aftershave. Maybe Antonio liked things to be neat. There was hardly any clutter downstairs, except for the books on the coffee table, she recalled.

She pulled off her heavy, cable-knit sweater then her long-sleeved t-shirt. Her wool-lined pants were kicked off with haste. Left to her threadbare white tank and black panties, she went to the closet and found sweaters and pants there.

It was warm in the house but the cold seeped. It was almost painful how her nipples tightened so she rubbed her arms to stop the goosebumps traversing her skin. The volume of clothes told her Antonio intended to stay for a while. Seeing them was enough to get her angry again. He really was a selfish bastard.

Her career was riding on this film but with Antonio clearly not returning, it meant all the hours and money were for naught. All of that, wasted, simply because this one man suddenly changed his mind. Maybe she should just go back to indies. She never had problems like this.

She felt bad for Alan. This was the first script he’d sold, and he was a shy, bumbling fellow. He was clearly talented with a pen, and it would be a crime for his stories never to make it to film. He was roadkill as far as Antonio was concerned.

She picked a heavy sweater and jeans, putting them on the bed. As she finished, a brief rap came to the door then it opened. She straightened up as Antonio stepped in with a cup of the promised tea. His feet skidded to a halt upon seeing her.

“Sorry,” he said, his eyes dropping to nipples straining against her tank. “I thought you were decent.”

Karina shrugged, despite her blush. She knew her body did not have sensual womanly curves but was athletic and hard. No men had ever looked at her with desire, what with her small breasts, straight waist and thighs. But she was suddenly conscious of Antonio’s stare. He was quick to look away, though. Men, she thought, a mix of bitterness and resignation. No matter the woman, they always looked at the chest first. Of course.

“It doesn’t matter,” she answered with a shrug, watching him put the tea on the nightstand. “Thank you.”

“Take your time,” Antonio told her, never giving her another glance on his way to the door. He shut it firmly. She listened to his footsteps disappear before going to the nightstand and sipping the tea. Good old chamomile.

She finished the tea then went to the bathroom. Her motions were languid, indicating tiredness from the forced trek in the snow. She filled up the tub and looked around the bathroom. Aftershave, deodorant, cologne, electric razor, shaving cream, the toilet seat left up. A towel left on the stone of the sink. This room was clearly more in use than the bedroom.

She left her clothes on the floor then stepped in the tub. The warm water drew a groan from her, and she sat down quickly, eager for more.

The bath was exactly what she needed. The water loosened the stiffness in her shoulders, her arms, down her legs and her feet. For those blessed thirty minutes, she turned her mind off from studio execs intimidating her, Anthony and Parker trying to dissuade her from pursuing Antonio, Alan looking like he wanted to cry when Antonio didn’t show up for the last scene. She found soap on the shelf and scrubbed herself clean then lay back again, closing her eyes.

When the water began to get cold, she sat up. She splashed some on her face, rubbed her eyes, then got out.

She found a thick, black robe hanging at the door and put it on. The warmth that wrapped her body dissipated, leaving her chilled again. She hurried back to the room and put on clothes. She found a pair of socks on the chair, clearly used but her feet were beginning to cramp from the chill. So, she put them on then went downstairs.

A rich, earthy aroma was coming from the kitchen. Curious, she went there and saw Antonio ladling casserole into a bowl. At the sound of her approach, he glanced at her over his shoulder. “Good. You’re done. I was about to come get you.”

“I nearly fell asleep in the tub,” she admitted, flushing. She watched him take care with putting the casserole in the bowl. “Can I help?”

“No,” was the curt reply. “Sit your ass down. I got this.”

“Karina,” she snapped but pulling out a chair and planting herself on it. Antonio pulled on an oven mitt. It was awkward getting his hold of the bowl, pressing against his stomach. But he managed to bring it to her without the contents spilling.

It was casserole, her nose told her. It had carrots and onions, plump chunks of meat and a reddish-brown casserole smelling heavenly of spices. Antonio went off again and when he returned, he held out a spoon to her. She took it.

“Thanks,” she murmured as he sat down in front of her. He didn’t have a bowl. “You’re not eating?”

“Just had breakfast. That was last night’s dinner,” he said, nodding at her food. “Eat it. Maybe it will remove the ugly scowl from your face.”

“That’s really a nice way of inviting me to dig in,” she retorted, swirling the spoon in the bowl. “So, you made this?”

“Why? Do you think because I’m one-armed I can’t feed or cook for myself?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Well, I know that you wouldn’t be asking that if I still had two arms.” Antonio seemed to relent then said, grudgingly, “Everything’s pre-cut, pre-chopped, pre-everything.”

Karina was about to marvel at his preparedness when it hit her. She looked at him. “You really were going to disappear for a while, weren’t you?”

“That’s still the plan, pretty.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“I’ve called you a lot of things and that’s what you don’t want me to call you?”

“It’s sexist and demeaning.”

“What about when you call me an idiot, a stupid fuck, a bastard and whatever you’ve got in this extensive dictionary of yours?”

Her amber eyes flashed. “That’s different. I have actual evidence to back them up. You’ve been calling me that since day one.”

Antonio shrugged. “You never said anything.”

“Because I thought I’d just let it be. Now that I know what kind of person you are, I’m not having it.” She cut a piece of meat, scooped some carrots then the casserole. She brought it to her mouth and fresh flavors exploded on her tongue. Her eyes widened while Antonio looked on, his expression smug.

“That’s a slight improvement of the scowl,” he remarked. “Have more.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Antonio,” she said, continuing to eat. As she chewed, she continued, “Delicious casserole aside, you’re still a piece of shit.”

“A one-armed piece of shit.”

“You said it.”

“You have no idea how it is for me. I don’t give a damn if the movie was supposed to be my big comeback. But you’re making me out to be a freak, and you don’t know it.”

“How is that?’ She demanded. “I did everything I could to accommodate you. I said you could have a double. We’ll just tie the guy’s arm at his back and fit him with a prosthetic arm.”

“You wouldn’t have hired me if I still had two arms. You wanted me because I lacked the appendage.”

Karina let out an annoyed huff. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“You’re talking about one scene.”

“You’re so stupid!” She exclaimed, plunking the spoon heavily on the casserole. “I wanted you for the role because your talent and range suited it. You’re the only one I wanted!”

“You said there as another guy!”

“I wouldn’t have taken the job if the studio pushed him on me.”

“That’s right.” Antonio pushed his chair back and stormed out of the kitchen.

“I don’t believe this!” Karina muttered under her breath before following him. Finding Antonio with his back facing her and his arms crossed, she sighed and kept her spot by the kitchen doorway. “Look at me.”

He ignored her.

“You look at me,” she growled. “Antonio.”

She was shaking from frustration and the anger he had managed to incite from her again. She was through with this man and was just thinking of surviving the night until her departure. But he was far from finished with her. She regretted the awful names she had called him. There was no excuse. Looking at him now, something was slowly beginning to click in her brain. Antonio wanted something from her. He wanted her to confirm something and wasn’t going to stop until she did.

Finally, he looked at her. His dark eyes were dark and narrowed, his square jaw tight. He seemed to be struggling to rein in his temper too, she noticed, seeing the tension in his shoulders.

“I’ve always believed in you.”

“Bullshit.” He snarled and turned away from her again. This time Karina went to him and grabbed him by the right arm, forcing him to look at her. He gasped in shock, glaring at where her hand remained then turning those eyes on her.

“Listen to me—”

“Don’t touch me—” He shook her off.

“What do you want me to say?” Karina demanded. “You’re a one-armed freak? Someone who was good—once? Alright. I’ll say it again. You were good—once. You’ve always been good, and I’ve always admired you. I don’t know how it is to go through what you went through—”

“Do not,” Antonio warned, stepping close enough that the tip of his nose bumped her. Karina jumped back. “Talk to me about what happened.”

“Why? Maybe someone should. You’re not a freak, Antonio! You never were! But if you continue thinking like that—”

“I didn’t want to do the movie. I disappeared after the accident because I knew it was only a matter of time before the jobs stopped coming. Can you see me as a romantic lead? Can you imagine me with a shotgun? I left because I wasn’t going to let them reject and spit me out. Five years!” he spat. “Five years. It took me that long to pass for normal again. You don’t know how it is to be looked at by people, fucking strangers and nothings who make the sum of you simply because you’re missing an arm!”

He tried walking past her, but she grabbed him by the shoulders.

“I don’t know? You’re right, Antonio. I don’t know how it is to lose an arm, but I damn well know how it is to be looked at and found to be severely lacking. That’s my whole life. You think being called a freak is the worst? How about knowing that there are people who don’t see me as a person?”

They glared at each other, both flushed but Karina was definitely redder. Realizing she was still gripping his shoulders, she dropped her hands and stepped away.

“You were never a freak. You lost an arm. I’m sorry you did. I’m sorry you felt that the industry didn’t want you anymore. But I’ve always admired you. Had that script fallen in my hands and things happened differently for you, it’s still you I’d work with. You’re my only choice.” She said, meeting his gaze. “There’s no one I’d work with for this movie. Yes, it’s my way of getting into the mainstream but only with you.”

She went to sit on the couch, suddenly feeling light-headed. She sank deeply on it, staring at the ceiling.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, Antonio. But I wish you’d told me instead of disappearing and compromising everything that had been done. You’re gonna get sued,” she said, shifting her tired gaze at him. “I will get sued. But you know who I feel really badly for? It’s Alan. This is his work. We’re just people ensuring it gets done and look what happened. He’s just a kid.”

Antonio sat down on a chair and looked at her. Karina tried not to squirm. He stared as if peering at her through a microscope, determining what to make of her to know where and how to strike next. Her cheeks warmed, a flush beginning there and spreading to her neck.

“You’re still good, you know. If only you’d believe me instead of fighting me.”

“I don’t want to be seen as an actor with one arm.” Antonio told her after a moment.

“You’re more than that.”

He snorted and she sat up, her forehead wrinkling. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Karina, don’t act all innocent. You’re pushing it. You know people will say whatever they have to in order to get something from others.”

It was like taking a knife in the guts. “You think that’s what I’m doing.”

“You’re here to take me back, kicking and screaming. You try to warn me about a lawsuit but really.”

“I can’t.” Karina stood up, feeling sick. “There’s only so much I can do, Antonio. You don’t believe me. Yes, I’m here to take you back. I’m actually trying to protect you, you dolt. But you have all these assumptions and I just…I can’t. I really can’t.”

“You don’t know how much that scene scares me.”

“Then tell me!” She yelled jerking to her feet and making him jump in his seat. “Talk to me about it instead of tearing at me again!”

“I told you,” he hissed, swallowing hard. “The scene you want from me…it scares me.”

“Then we’ll use a body double,” she growled.

“That’s your solution? I tell you I’m scared, and you tell me don’t do it?”

“You just told me you believe I’m saying what I say simply to get something out of you. What’s the point?”

“I tell you I’m afraid and the first thing you do is get me away from it. I don’t need protecting.”

“You’re the last person who does. I just…look, if you don’t want to do it, don’t.”

“I’m not saying I don’t. I’m telling you it scares me.”

Karina didn’t answer. She just looked at him before turning to head upstairs. There was nowhere to go in this house. As she climbed, she heard Antonio sigh loudly, the sound dragged deep from his chest. He cursed.

Wearily, she sat on the bed and stared blankly at the wall. Out of the corner of her eye, Antonio entered the room, paused then sat down beside her. Their shoulders brushed and she moved to make room for him.

Antonio ran his hand through his hair. It was a habit that conveyed impatience and frustration, she had come to learn. She was tempted to brush the lock that hung over his right ear, but she wouldn’t touch him.

“I talk to a shrink once a week. I need it. I still dream of having two arms. But I talk to him mainly because I’m no longer the man I used to be. I don’t know what to make of myself now. What I can tell you for sure is I’m no fan.”

He rested his elbows on his knees and continued.

“I used to be the man everyone wanted to be. I was paid millions, directors wanted me, critics loved me. The women would do anything, so I’d fuck them. I had everything people in this job could only dream of. Then, it happened. I was driving too fast on a slippery road. I lost control. When I woke up, I was pinned inside the car and my right arm was broken and crushed beyond repair. There was no saving it. I thought the pain was hell. What followed was the fiery pit.”

Karina had read about the accident and the amputation was horrible. It was the headline for weeks. Her face went warm because she was one of the many who monitored the news and scooped up every mention of Antonio’s condition.

“I retreated. I refused interviews. Turned away from everyone except my family. Anthony was the only one who treated me normally. Our father won’t look at me. I was relieved when he died. It was last year.”

“I’m sorry.” She put her hand over his. Antonio turned his hand, so she could press it on his palm. They stared at their joined hands. His was elegant with long, slim fingers. Hers had long fingers too but they were rough. It was also bigger.

“He said it my fault.”

“No.” Karina was quick to refute. “Never. Do not think that.”

Antonio’s chuckle was bitter. “I can’t help it, you know? He kept telling me how he did his damnedest that I grew up cautious and responsible. He did. Oh, he really did. There was only one path as a Blake and that was the boardroom, the head of the conference table. Not once did he go or watch any of my movies. Not once. He said to me—this was after the surgery, so I was still drugged up, but Anthony confirmed it—that after what happened, maybe I’d grow up and do something serious with my life. I had acting awards. Directors were always casting me. Everyone wanted me in their movies and here was Solomon Blake, believing that because I lied for a living, I wasn’t being serious.”

As Antonio trembled, Karina, still holding his hand, put an arm around his shoulders. She hugged him to her side. “I’m really sorry, Antonio. He should never have said that.”

“I hated him, but he was my dad, you know?”

“I do,” she whispered.

“I’m messed up.”

“You’re not. Antonio.” She had to speak sharply to get him to look at her. Her eyes were fierce. “You’re not. You’re a lot more than you think you are. A lot. I swear it.”

He looked away. Then, with a deep sigh, he let go of her hand. Karina had to stamp down on another wave of frustration. Just when they were getting somewhere! But he didn’t leave. Instead, he glanced at her. His shoulders sank then he started pulling up the right sleeve of his sweater.

It was a slow process, but Karina made no offer to assist. This was important to Antonio. She watched until he dragged the sleeve high enough to reveal the shoulder.

Antonio Blake was a handsome and a beautiful man. His hair was thick and black, calling for fingers to run through. His eyes were an intriguing brown that sometimes switched to a lighter one, depending on his mood. She knew from the many photo shoots he’d had that his beauty was only matched by a body honed by gym equipment and discipline.

If one gave prime importance to physical beauty, then the missing arm as a tragedy. It was the scar on a smooth, perfect surface. It looked weak, almost fragile compared to the rest of Antonio. The flesh was puckered and looked rough. Yes. This was a tragedy.

Antonio stared at her, challenge and defiance in his gaze, but also a sliver of uncertainty. This was the man Karina knew lurked under the tough, snarling exterior. This was the person she knew could deliver exactly the kind of justice required of the role in Runner. She looked at the shoulder, saddened that this still tortured Antonio. Would always torture him, probably. There was only so much she could do between that and him. She was not family, not a lover, not a friend. She was a colleague and whatever partnership or connection they had, if they had it, had died when he left suddenly.

But the movie, and she couldn’t believe it, no longer mattered. Something more important was happening.

Meeting Antonio’s stare, she tentatively reached for his shoulder. He hissed. She quickly took her hand back, flushing.

“S-Sorry…” she stammered.

Antonio shook his head. “It’s alright. It’s just that…it’s sensitive in the cold, I think.”

No wonder he was always tortured. He must still experience pain. He still felt the ghost of his hand as if it was still a part of him.

She was more careful when she wrapped her hand around his shoulder. It had slight ridges and raises, tickling her palm. She stared back at him, her eyes reflecting his defiance.

“Your loss is not the end, Antonio.”

* * *

Hours later, a hard slap on Karina’s bottom snapped her awake. Her eyes were still hazy but the scowl that formed on her face was downright lethal. “What the hell, Antonio?” She demanded, pushing her hair out of her eyes. “Why are you dressed?”

Antonio wearing a heavy, tufted red jacket, with the hood pulled on his head. He was in black pants and heavy boots. The dimples were back. On any other day, Karina would welcome it, but it was still so early.

“We have a plane to catch,” he said, a gloved arm yanking the blanket to the foot of the bed. Karina shrieked at the cold that whipped through her legs despite the socks and long johns. He smirked and she glared at him.

“We? Plane? What the hell?”

He rolled his eyes then went to the closet. Tossing clothes at her, he answered, “We have a movie to finish.”