Movie Devastation

He smirked. "Must be nice. All right. I'll stay. Just... please. If it gets to be too much? Please tell me. I'll go. You shouldn't have to put up with...," he gestured vaguely at the ever-increasing crowd of onlookers peeking through the window.

"Hey Dusty," she said, smiling up at him, then reached up and covered his lips with a single finger. "I'm a grown-ass baby girl. If it gets too much I'll say something and we'll figure it out together. Otherwise, just accept that I care and want you here and will do what I can to protect you, including this." She pulled a remote out of her pocket and pressed a button. He could hear the collective 'Noooo' as the window went mirrored outside so they couldn't see in. She winked up at him, "I'm all kinds of technological up in here."

"You might as well give up," the little girl said, "Miss Clover is a bit stubborn. My Pa said calling her a bit stubborn is like calling the ocean a bit salty."

He blinked, then looked between the little girl and Clover. Then, his shoulders slumped and he nodded, walking back to the table he'd been at. "Maybe a pastry?" he murmured.

"Excellent, I'll bring your favorite out... at least according to your Gramps." She vanished into the back and came out a few seconds later with a basket of beignets, half with powdered sugar, the other half plain with a little tub of honey cinnamon butter. She smiled at him, patted his shoulder, then turned to wait on other customers who were studiously looking away from him to give him some peace.

He closed his eyes as he savored the beignets, trying to forget that now within days, the real vultures would be here. The coffee finished the job his shower had started, and his mind started working full-speed again. He pulled out his phone and looked at it before sighing heavily. Thirty-eight messages from Victor and an absurd amount from Kelly. Surprisingly none from Jerome who, he assumed, had realized that he'd fucked up beyond repair. He deleted the ones from Kelly and texted Victor that he was home and would be here at least a month, maybe longer. That if any scripts were beyond amazing, to send them and he'd read them, but he wouldn't guarantee that he would throw his hat in the ring.

Victor started immediately calling him and he sighed, staring at the phone, Clover came out and saw him, she smiled wryly and came over taking the phone and answering it. "You've reached the bodaciously handsome line of one fantabulous Dusty, this is Clover speaking, what can I do you for?"

"Clover? Who is Clover? Put Dusty on the phone. This is his agent and I need to talk to him," the voice replied. It was not harsh but to the point and very efficient-like.

"Clover Walsh, JD, MBA, and Dusty's new lawyer-on-retainer," she winked at Dusty. "You sound stressed and upset. Tell you what, why don't you take a couple of days and come out for a vacay. I can promise you the best apple tarts this side of the Mississippi."

"I can't just..." Victor started, "Wait, did you say apple tarts?"

"Why yes, yes I did. We make everything in-house, fresh and the apples are grown right here in Elgin, Nebraska by Dusty's grandfather." Her voice dropped a little, "And I've got a line on a little bit of Saint Helena with a bourbon infusion that's just divine."

He was silent for a moment, but she could hear him typing something in the background. "All right, look. I'll be there... next Tuesday? Yeah. I can be there next Tuesday. Two... maybe three days. Fair? Just keep... him... there. I don't want to go chasing him all over the US to talk sense into him."

"Don't worry, I'll keep him here," Clover said with a delighted laugh, "Send me your itinerary and I'll set you up with a bed over at Momma Deux's bed and breakfast, her cooking is almost as good as Grandma's." She exchanged contact information, then hung up and handed Dusty his phone back with a wink, "Who's your favorite chaos kitten?"

"You just...," he started. "Victor... Apple tarts?" he blinked. He shook his head in confusion as he put his phone away, not understanding what was going on. She was running a restaurant, but acting like she was his personal assistant at the same time, not to mention, doing a damn good job at it.

"Page forty-two of E, they did a blurb about Victor Romano as your agent and he commented that one of the big things he missed most was Apple Tarts made by his grandmother." She winked up at him, "I have hyperthymesia, which means I have an excellent memory for facts, figures, and random details." She wrapped him in a hug. "And now I'm taking care of my favorite person after my Grandma and Gramps."

He slid his arms around her slowly, then looked up. "Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything you want, I promise to answer honestly, but sometimes the answer might be, 'I can't talk about it' and you'll have to ask a different question." She smiled up at him, her eyes warm and welcoming.

He was silent for a moment, then murmured, "I... think I get why you have been so helpful with Gramps. Your Grandma is sweet on him, and... he's a nice old guy so you probably like him as well. He's always been that way. But...," he trailed off. "You... didn't know me. And all I'm doing is bringing trouble to town. Why... me? I mean... you. Why are you... being so nice to me?" He looked around and added, "Because you're not going around giving random hugs to anyone else..."

She hummed under her breath, "The answer is both complicated and simple. I'm doing it because I choose to because I want to. That's the simple part. I'm very much a 'Carpe Diem' kinda girl. The complicated part has to do with the whole human emotion and feelings. I do it because your smile makes me happy and I want to make you smile because it makes you happy. Taking care of and protecting you feels right, feels important. There's no logical quantifying reason for it, just... 'Help him' sounded in my mind the first time I saw you. Maybe Aengus Og was blabbering in my head."

His brow furrowed and his nose crinkled. "Angus who?"

Her mouth opened, closed then a blush dusted her cheeks adorably, "Similar to the Greek's Aphrodite. He's the Irish God of Love, youth, and... fertility."

"Oh. That's... cool. Do you... follow the old Irish gods? You'd be... the first I've ever met," he offered. One of the things that he enjoyed most as an actor was the need to do research for a role and the eclectic nature of his roles meant that he needed to research a wide variety of unconnected but similarly interesting topics. Religion, however, had never been one of them and the opportunity to learn something new piqued his natural curiosity.

"Some of them, other's not so much 'cause they're dicks," she offered with a soft chuckle. "My family is always been a bit of a mixed bag when it comes to religion and who we follow. We're very much a live and let live. Of course, we also know the bible, mostly so we can thump bible thumpers with it." She smiled up at him, reaching up to cup his face, stroking a thumb over his cheek. "But I would be happy to teach you what I know."

"I'd like that." He explained the learning process of an actor and how odd stuff triggered his curiosity now.

"That's wonderful," she smiled and hugged him, squeezing him tightly.

"I'll also say that your... um... hugs? They feel a lot different than any I've ever gotten before. I like it," he confessed.

"I'm glad, I will happily give you all the hugs you want." She smiled up at him.

"You're doing fine as you are. I just... thought you should know."

"I'm glad," she smiled and squeezed him gently.

"These beignets are fantastic, by the way. You're a fantastic cook...," he murmured.

"Thank you," she smiled up at him, giving him another tight hug. "Now, I'll let you get out of here before you get mobbed too much more. I'll walk you out," she stated firmly.

He nodded, getting up and walking to the door with her. "Thank you, Clover. I appreciate you. Truly," he murmured. Looking outside, he sighed and squared his shoulders, and opened the door. There were several feminine squeals of 'It's DUSTY!' He jogged across the street and quickly put his helmet on and started up his motorcycle, pulling away as he began driving around to make sure that no one was following him before he headed back to his grandfather's farm.

Clover rolled her eyes as they flowed into her shop to interrogate her about Dusty. "Yes, we're friends, I take care of his grandfather. No, we're not a couple, yes he's escorting me to the social, no you don't get to take pictures of him inside my cafe."

"But...," one woman started.

"What is he?" She raised a brow, "He's another human that deserves respect and the ability to relax and enjoy some quiet time. Anyone who starts hassling him is going to have to deal with me. And this is lawyer speaking, not just Clover." Her firm voice caused them to flinch.

They were silent and looked a little downcast. Then, slowly, they filed out of her restaurant, mumbling about how Clover was spoiling their chances of being with a real movie star. When they left, there were only the paying customers left and only a few of them.

Clover rolled her eyes at their pouting, then turned to finish taking care of business. After she shut the cafe down, she packed up dinner and headed out to spend time with Dusty and his grandfather. The next few days, she mused, should prove interesting.

He arrived back at the farm and walked in. Phillip was not in the chair anymore and just in case, Dusty started looking around for him. As he walked down the first-floor hallway, he heard grunting coming from the direction of the Master bedroom. Dusty grinned, turned around, and walked back toward the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. Shaking his head he chuckled to himself. "Well... at least the old man isn't dead..."

She came out with food shortly after Phillip left his room, setting up the table with food. She glanced at Phillip, then flushed beet red and turned her back, "Grandpa, I love you... but you might want to go change your pants and then join us for dinner."

Phillip looked down and saw the mess, then blushed. "Oh, I... right...," he turned and nearly sprinted to his room. Dusty snickered as he watched his grandfather go.

"Well, at least we know the pipes work and Grandma will be happy," Clover said, then burst into soft giggles, covering her face with her hands.

"He was asking me some very specific questions. I downloaded five of the Moorwind educational videos onto his tablet to give him some background information and vocabulary to... have a conversation," Dusty shrugged. "Apparently, he liked them..."

"Ahh, their series is very good. I like the primal discussion ones too, but I don't think those two are up for that much activity," she said, trying to keep from dying from both laughter and embarrassment, "they're likely to fracture a hip or something. We had a brief discussion once when I asked him not to call me baby girl but told him little one was OK."

"That's what started the conversation. He didn't understand the 'why', and I wasn't going to sit there and try to keep a straight face while explaining it to him. So... I passed the buck," he smirked.

"Excellent job on passing the buck," she agreed, "I just could have done without the evidence of his enjoyment." Another squeaking giggle escaped from behind her hands. "Gods... this is so embarrassing..."

"Why? He's a human being with... er... needs. So is your grandmother, I imagine. We get them together and... what happens, happens, right?" he offered. "It doesn't have to be embarrassing."

"It's less them getting together and more the... seeing it." She confessed, "And then... a handsome man is talking with me about it and...," she snapped her mouth closed, then closed her eyes to take slow deep breaths, her hand sliding to her throat to squeeze in time with them.

"Hey...," he murmured, moving around to wrap her in his arms the way she'd done for him. "It's OK. It's just us, OK? No worries. No expectations. No judgment. Believe me. I'm the absolute last person that needs to be judging anyone.'

She melted into the hug, resting her head against his chest as she tried to get her breathing back under control, "Sorry. That's the other reason I don't really practice... I start getting panicked and..." she trailed off with a shrug. "Thank you, Dusty."

"Of course, Clover," he murmured, looking down at her with concern. "Is there anything I can do to help it?" he asked softly.

"I..." she trailed off, then shook her head, "Just have to be patient until I find my Daddy," she whispered.

He nodded, tightening his arms around her. "You never know when they'll show up. Probably when you least expect it, too...," he murmured.

She nodded, nuzzling into his chest and just breathing him in. One hand moved to wrap around his waist and clutch at his back. "Maybe," she whispered. "You smell good too, it's not fair."

"Why is it not fair?" he murmured.

"You're handsome, you smell good, your hugs make me feel warm and safe and I just want to spend all my time cuddling you but I can't because I have to be responsible," she grumbled, "I'm tired of adulting."

"You need an adultier adult...," he said sagely.

She nodded, "I need my Daddy," she whispered, taking a deep breath and letting it out, her hand flexing on her throat as she did so, keeping her mind calm.

"Well... I don't know much... but I'm pretty sure anyone would be blessed to have you as their baby girl," he murmured. "You're an amazing woman in my eyes," he added.

She tilted her head back to look up at him, getting lost in his gaze for a moment, "Yeah?" She asked softly, her eyes filled with a small amount of hope.

He nodded, looking down at her with a serious gaze. "Very much so. You're a lawyer, you run a successful and very popular business. You help your grandmother at the cost of your own advancement. You even help your grandmother's intended beau and his messed up grandson without any thought for yourself. What's not amazing about that? I know tons of people that wouldn't do anything close to such things." He paused and shrugged, "Admittedly, most of them live in Hollywood..."

"Oh, Da... Dusty," she sighed, tucking her head back into his chest, "That's just being good to people you love."

"That doesn't mean that people actually do it. Do you understand how truly rare it is to find someone that's actually good... I mean, deep-down good to the people they lo...," he trailed off, looking at her with a rapidly intent gaze. Had she just said that... she loved him?

"My parents and Grandma always taught me that love was less about the fluffy ephemeral feeling, because it, like anger, joy, and sadness is fleeting. Instead, love of a partner should be a choice, choosing to love that person over and over again, going to bed and waking up every day with the thought, 'This one, this is the one I love'."

"It's... hard when only half of that partnership thinks that way...," he said softly.

"That's when you find someone new who is willing to choose you above all others, just as you would choose them. To protect, to serve, to care for, to provide comfort and a place of home." She paused, then her voice dropped into a whisper, "The only person you're a naughty little whore for and worship with everything you do."

He was pondering that as Phillip came back out with new pants and a new shirt for good measure. "Who's hungry? I'm hungry...," he said with a smile.

She hugged him again, then gently released him, "Food is good, I brought your favorite lamb," she said with a smile to Phillip, turning to fix the plates and then the drinks.

Almost as if he'd done it all his life, Dusty moved to help. As they worked to serve dinner, his body seemed to automatically put him in a position to brush up against her when they moved. She would look up and they would share a small smile, then continue before doing it again. It was an easy sort of dance, one that felt more natural than anything he could remember.

She sat beside him for dinner and they discussed the social and she pointed a fork at his grandpa, "And you're going to be there with Grandma."

"I will," he said firmly, "and I'm glad you two are getting together. Maybe we could plan your wedding to be right after mine then just have one big reception."

"What wedding?" Her brow furrowed, "I'm not even dating anyone."

"Gramps... How about you let me and..." he glanced at Clover and blushed slightly, ducking his head, "whoever I end up marrying plan our own wedding, huh? You don't need to worry about money. Plan whatever you want, I'll pay for it. It's not like the money's doing anything else other than sitting in accounts...," he shrugged.

Clover nodded, not looking up from her plate, she focused on her food as she tried to shove the desires she had for his arms back down in their box. "Grandma is going to take care of the cafe on Saturday, so if you don't want me to bring food out you're welcome to see her there as well."

Dusty looked at her for a moment, then reached out to tentatively touch her hand. When she looked up, he murmured, "I... don't know that there's going to come a time when I'm... we're... not... going to want to see you. Even if you came without food..."

She gave him a shy, sweet smile, "OK," she offered softly. "I just want to make sure my favorite people are taken care of."

"And we want to take care of our favorite people too...," Dusty replied softly, holding her eyes.

She studied his gaze, a faint blush dusting her cheeks, then she nodded slowly, "OK," she smiled at him, then turned to focus on Phillip again. "Now, I'm going to give you two things tonight. One, we're going to post in your front yard, the other on your glass door."

Dusty, almost certain he knew what they were, murmured, "I don't know that it's going to stop them..."

"It doesn't have to," she stated simply, "It's just physical proof that they are denied access to your person." She smirked, a hint of a fangy grin and darkness in her eyes, "Then, I can hit them where it hurts most, their pocketbook."

"You're going to have to hit pretty deep," he murmured. "Some of these guys? The agencies backing them up are massive. I had no idea when I went out there...," he trailed off.

"Maybe, but mine are just as deep, and when I force them to pay court costs..." she shrugged, "Plus I've already got a friend working on acquiring some... shall we say leverage." She smirked, "A seat on their board will go a long way to jerking their chains."

He blinked, shook his head to clear it, and blinked again. "A seat on...," he trailed off, thinking he couldn't possibly have heard her correctly.

"Their board of directors," she repeated easily.

"Where on Earth did you find that kind of pull?" he asked incredulously.

"Money buys you lots of things, particularly stupid money," her nose crinkled slightly. "My sister from another mister is bored and in California taking a break between her shoots. You probably know her as Lady Luck or Lavender O'Callaghan."

He blinked, his jaw dropping open. "You know Lavender O'Callaghan?" he asked, stunned.

"I'm her lawyer, well, one of them." She said as if that explained everything. "We went to college together and when I got my JD for Cali she immediately retained me. Contracts are my specialty. Comes with the whole memory thing. So when I told her my lo... friend was having issues with a few vultures she pointed her other legal team at it to start taking care of business."

"You're... even more amazing than I gave you credit for earlier," Dusty murmured. "I don't even know how you manage to walk around without... vaporizing everyone with your awesomeness." She looked up at him, thinking he was teasing her, but his eyes were absolutely serious.