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Aint No Business
Chapter Three: A Spoonful of Sugar


“Shoot. I ain’t mad. So what, Marie’s got her own damn life.” James threw the car door open and nearly tripped over his car rug. “I should probably do something about that. Somebody could hurt themselves.” He wanted to laugh because the only possible somebody would most like trip on to their face over that rug, would be him.

He stumbled along to his front door, and promised himself no more binge drinking. The hangover hadn’t even set in and it was already starting to suck. After a lot of grumbling and more complaining, he unlocked his door and smacked his light switch. The lights flared on immediately reminding him that he was domestically challenged. It used to bother him when his shit would pile up, but now that he made himself sparse in his own home, it just gave him something to walk over.

Hearing his stomach beg for something, James opened up his fridge and popped out a cold one. Beer was the best thing to drink after a big night, or so his father always told him. He pushed a pile of dirty clothes on the floor, threw his legs up, and settled down on his couch. Just as he was comfortable, his phone rang.

The clock next to the phone just changed to 2:15 am. Shit and double shit. It was either Summers or his wife. He looked at his ceiling with a smile, both were probably looking for him to work tonight. Although each wanted him to do completely different things. Sometimes he almost felt bad about screwing Scott over, by well, screwing his wife. That was until Scott did the really dumb thing of opening his mouth. But still, it didn’t matter how much of a bitch Scott could be, he deserved far better than what Jeannie was doing.

She did always profess her undying love for her husband, constantly, everywhere. On the news, in the papers, on magazines, press conferences. Jean had the face one could recognize blindfolded, and she was in huge demand as an actress. She was one of those untouchable beautiful people. James was shocked the first time, she went out of her way to talk to him. At the time he had just finished with the panoramic shots of a mountain for a historic biopic she was starring in and her husband was directing.

Ever since then it was like watching himself in a slow moving Nascar wreck. He had the feeling that Jeannie had genuinely liked him. But, she had made it painfully obvious that her husband came first, unless it came to monogamy.

If he had just been stronger when Mariko died, he may have not fallen into the hamster wheel of Jean. Coming of a divorce, then another significant relationship, it was like she had seen him coming. That night they had sat in her trailer talking about what had lured them into the business, and how they had changed. They talked about how they missed the past and how others changed all around them. He worried about her during these times when her guard was down because he saw something in her the public just didn’t see. Her manic depression.

For many people with bi-polar tendencies they can function on a regular basis without medication. The cycle of depression is wide and they have space in between the highs and lows. Jean was not one of them. During their long talk he could see her mood swing from deliriously happy to near suicidal in one complete sentence. At first it was a excuse to see her and make sure that she was taking all of her medicines. Then it turned into a need for them both.

Eventually it became more than platonic. It was kind of sad, as soon as they had sex something died. The friendship had ended. He often would think that the sick sweet smell of death would wait for him when he emerged from her trailer. That was never a good sign.


Whenever Jean couldn’t get anything out of Scott, she would turn to him. He would find himself there ready and waiting. Of all the words set to describe himself, James never thought that doormat would be one of them.

James opened up his fly and felt around, yep, everything was there. He was still a man. Why was he still putting up with this? That had yet to be answered.

*Ring, ring, ring.* Apparently the phone still needed to be answered too.

“Hello?”

“Jeeze, what took you so long?”

“Nothin’. Just thinkin’, Summers. Why are ya callin’ me two o clock in the mornin’?”

“I need to give a presentation first thing tomorrow morning about where we need to start filming. The studio needs to secure the locations, get the permits, and the permission, as well as local extras, and all that good stuff. The only problem is the head of cinematography hasn’t told me jack-shit as of yesterday, LOGAN!”

Uh-oh. He pulled out the middle name, somebody meant business. As much as he wanted to screw with Scott’s head just a little longer, he knew that he couldn’t. Any more delays, and it would start costing them money. The Lord knows how nobody would ever hear the end of it then.

“For the wider outside shot during the winter, we can start in Hokkaido. We can move south when needed. There are beautiful wide open plains near Sapporo.”

“Alright, we can send out a crew in a few days to check it out. Did you want to go with them?” There was a pause, and James could here Scott curse. “Aw man, I’m sorry about that. Was that were Mariko was from, or was that Itsu?”

“Nope, Mariko was from Sapporo. Remember all that beer that no one ever paid for, Summers. No wait, I don’t think ya’d remembered it.”

Both men had to laugh at that. When the conversation was over Scott had managed to convince James to scout out the best places in Japan to buy out for filming. He also told him to start on extra casting.

What the fuck! That wasn’t his job. Wasn’t Cassandra Nova the casting director. Why did that woman always get away with murder. So what her brother owned the studio. That didn’t mean that he was going to do her god damn job.

Since he was going to have an ass load of things to do in the morning, he made a list of his crew he would need, as well as what he would need on camera to be accurate for the film.

Before he called it a night, he took a long hard look at the last name on his list. Ororo Monroe. Lots of ‘o’s and ‘r’s in that name. It sounded sexy before and now it looks sexy. Hmm. If the rumors were true, her food would be hot, too. They said that she learned to cook all over the world. If they were any gods in the world, that would be true as well. She had several cook books on how to have cheap-ass meals. (Wasn’t the name of the cook book Cheap-ass Meals?)

If she could cater for the cast and crew, as well as the food on screen... They would save a fortune on not having to pay for a second cook for the days they had on screen food.

He looked at the copy of the menu he was sent. Her taste ranged from expensive rarities, to everyday in new and unusual ways. Well, at least she would make the trip interesting.

He turned his computer on, and started her email.




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