by Andrea Wolfe
"He's been suspicious this whole time. I don't understand why, but he acted like he knew about us from the beginning."
"Well, so what?" Jack said defensively. "You had nothing to do with my decision. He's just paranoid because he's not the wunderkind he used to be."
"He's not acting rationally. He said his wife is divorcing him and he needs money to pay for legal troubles."
"His wife?" Jack asked suddenly.
"Yeah." I nodded.
"I don't think Sam's ever been married. Too focused on his job to settle down."
Fuck. What was going on here? Honestly, I believed Jack more than Sam, but I had no idea how to juggle the information. Was it just a weird coincidence? Had Sam actually said that stuff or had I just imagined it?
No, he definitely said it.
"Well, whatever," I said, not as a dismissal, but because I didn't know where to go with the information.
"He was probably just trying to get you to feel sympathetic for him. To make you feel bad or something. To take it out on someone else so he doesn't have to face the facts. His deal sucked. Period."
"Is MCI doing badly as a company?" It seemed like a good question.
"Not too bad. Not great either. Most labels aren't. That's why they want someone like Lexy on their rosters. I say fuck 'em all. Independent is the only way to do it right now with something this hot."
Well, that made sense. "So what do I do?"
"With what? This isn't your problem. Relax. Chill out." He tapped his fingers together as he talked.
"What about that Dan guy? The jerk at the party?"
"He probably doesn't even work for MCI. I wouldn't worry about him. He acted like an asshole. Deserved everything he got."
Jack was right about that. But I didn't have to see Dan every day, or ever. "Sam's always on my ass about stuff. And he's stressed out all the time, ever since I first met you."
"If Sam's being ridiculous, tell him to go to hell."
I was starting to feel flustered. "I can't do that every day, Jack. He's my boss!"
Jack slowed down after my heated retort. "Okay, I'm sorry," he said, "I know this means a lot to you, so I shouldn't be so dismissive of it. The more important thing is that it's out of your control, always has been. You can't do anything to improve it."
"Yeah," I mumbled, adding nothing to the discussion.
He wrapped his arm around me and kissed the top of my head. "Effie, you'll be fine. You have to trust me."
His words felt good, but hollow, only hollow because that's the way they felt to me at face value. He was a man of his word for sure, someone who followed through and did the right thing. But it wasn't enough for me at that moment, not yet.
"What does that mean, Jack? That I have to trust you?"
"Everything will work out. This is worrying you far too much for your own good. I'm happier than ever right now with you. I couldn't think of a better place to be. I've got nothing to complain about."
My eyes welled up with tears, his words like a full body caress. Who was I kidding? I felt incredible whenever I was with Jack. Even the worst situation could be something beautiful when he was around. I took a deep breath, and with my lowered defenses came calm. Things were moving so fast, but I couldn't think of any better speed than that. I think I wanted to say I love you, but my lips wouldn't move.
Or maybe I was afraid of the possibility.
"Me too," I said. I meant it.
I fell asleep with his arms around me, dozing off in that comfortable place in the sky.
***
The rest of the plane ride was uneventful since I slept through almost all of it. My body, coping with a combination of jet lag, a hangover, and stress from my situation, just aborted consciousness. I couldn't resist.
After landing, Jack took me home and told me to take some time to relax and think about things on my own. "You need some time to let everything sink in. Don't sweat it. Try to accept the worst possible scenario. It's usually not as bad as you think it is."
It sounded like he had been reading self-help books. The advice was solid, nevertheless.
"Easy for you to say, Mr. Millionaire. Dividends probably pay your rent."
Jack laughed, giving me that engaging grin. "I know a lot of formerly rich people who have nothing now. Spending can be like a disease, even with dividends."
"I'll watch out," I said.
He pulled me toward him, possessing my mouth with his tongue. It was both tender and passionate, and I mirrored the intensity. When the kiss broke, I hugged him, our bodies staying like that for a few minutes. Percy didn't care since Jack was obviously covering the bill.
"So I'll see you tomorrow?" I asked.
"Of course. You need to rest and let the dust settle in your mind."
I grabbed my bag and hobbled toward the open door, immediately wondering what I should say now. "Thanks, Jack. For a great time." I kept it simple.
"You're the one that made it fun. It would have been boring otherwise. Thank you for coming."
He cradled my hand with his own and then I climbed out to the sidewalk. When I got to the stoop, I heard him yell my name. Was he about to say it?
I left my bag there and walked back to the limo. "Yeah?"
"You forgot your phone. It fell out of your purse when you stood up."
I let out a cackle, but he probably didn't know why. "Thanks, Jack. You're the best."
He grinned and then lightly closed the door.
The limo drove away as I stood immobile, silently pondering my unique situation and the upcoming future.
Jesse was inside waiting for me, immediately curious after noticing the limo in the street. "Another fun weekend, huh?" He was sitting at the kitchen table with papers strewn about. I grabbed a chair after setting down my bags in the hallway.
"I guess you could say that," I remarked quietly. "We went to—" I paused, feeling bad after realizing I hadn't even had the courtesy to tell him where we had ended up after running into him right before I left. "L.A.," I said, my voice almost a whisper.
"You were in California all weekend? Why didn't you bring me along?" It was obvious he was kidding, but I was somewhere else entirely and not about to return to normality anytime soon.
"I'm so sorry," I said, ignoring his joke and instead pursuing my apology. "Jack just asked me to go on a weekend trip and I said yes and then we were on his private jet and—"
Jesse put his hand on my shoulder and interrupted me. "Effie, I was only kidding, I swear. I'm not mad at all. That's really awesome. Did you see anyone famous?"
His question ejected me from my funk. "Stacy Levons!" I shouted it loud enough that he jumped.
"Holy shit. Isn't she his ex? Was it weird?"
"Yeah, she is. And no, not weird at all."
Jesse gave me a warm smile. "Shit, and a private jet, huh?"
"It was surreal. And surreal is the understatement of a lifetime."
I went on and on after that, spilling the whole exciting story to him, minus the obviously private details. He sat and listened, a look of pure fascination on his face. I also omitted the detail about the record label employee at the party, wanting to give myself some time alone with that. Something told me I already knew what Jesse's perspective would be.
"That's so awesome, Effie," he said. "Just a spur-of-the-moment trip to the other side of the country. I kind of feel bad for my initial skepticism about this guy." His revision of history helped to put me at ease.
"He's just—" What did I want to say about him? I mean, my unfiltered mind used the word perfect, but I wouldn't say it aloud right now. "Just awesome."
His lips curled into a wry smile. "I hope Laura says that about me when I'm not around."
"Oh, I'm sure she says a lot more than that," I chuckled.
"Damn, should I be worried or something?" He raised an eyebrow.
"I think you've got nothing to worry about." I smiled back at him and stood up. "But listen, I've got to finish some things b
efore work tomorrow. I'm gonna leave you to these papers here, okay?"
"Sounds just fine. If I don't see you again, goodnight, Effie."
I was thankful to have found a roommate like Jesse. He genuinely seemed to care, even though there was no real reason for him to.
Despite the fact that Jack and I had showered that morning, I showered again, happy to see my familiar dank bathroom interior. It wasn't terribly nice, but it had character—and a leaky faucet and improperly sealed shower walls. I pushed all of the bad things out of my mind and just relaxed in the steam.
I wanted a clear head going into the next week. And little did I know, I was going to need it more than ever. The weekend had been beautiful, almost like a vacation away from the world. Things were progressing fast with Jack, and I wouldn't obsess over the details anymore. I just wanted to ride along.
Honestly, I didn't give the situation much thought that night. After the shower, I threw on an episode of 30 Rock and passed out before it ended.
Chapter 18
Having never been fully stable and happy in my adult life—I had been close, but never fully there—I had no idea what happened to emotions during those good times. Did happiness bring patience and calm along with it? Was there ever a state that you could be in that would shield you from a dangerous world?
An emotional safe house? A place where nothing could penetrate your outer, exposed layers?
The closer I got to work, the more my body rejected the notion that everything would be okay. I regretted not giving the situation more thought, more delicate consideration the previous night. It felt like a blunder on my part.
You'll be fine.
It was as if I had the cartoon devil on one shoulder and the angel on the other. The first sip of my latte burned my lip, startling me and giving me the impression that the devil was about to come in first place. Dammit.
As I walked up the stairs to my floor, I considered what I knew and what might happen. At the very least, Jack had said he wasn't going with MCI, which meant that Sam would probably be upset. There was also the situation with that loser, Dan, the one Jack had encouraged me to ignore. Jack had seemed less than sympathetic about Sam's situation, but he seemed to act like Sam had an acceptable reason for being so pessimistic.
I walked past the windows where I had first spoken to Jack over the phone, my stomach immediately reminded of the sharp tension I had felt as I waited for his call. God, those gifts paired with Sam's volatile reactions had been somewhat priceless in retrospect.
It had been a simpler time then, but not by much.
Our office looked normal for a Monday morning. Everyone was busy, and I didn't see Sam around. I walked over to my desk and took a seat, intending to catch up on email. My network password didn't seem to work no matter how many times I typed it in.
No big deal. They sometimes upgraded computer stuff on the weekend when everyone was out of the office. I'd just have to notify one of the IT guys. It would probably only take a second for them to reset the password.
I sat there quietly for a few minutes, looking at the clock and idle other than sipping my latte. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sam charging into the office, his face unshaven, his shirt a wrinkled mess. His eyes were bloodshot, like he hadn't slept at all.
He came straight to me. "Jacobs?" he asked. It wasn't a properly phrased question, so I moved on.
"Hey, Sam." I said. "My password won't work."
He winced at me, his face a look of total disgust. "Oh, your password won't work, huh? What a fucking shame." I smelled alcohol on his breath. Two minutes in and I already knew this was going to be an unusual Monday.
I looked around the office, realizing that we were starting to attract attention. "Sam, I don't get it. Can you please settle down?"
"Jack Teller's people notified me that the fuckin' deal is off. Doesn't that just piss you right off? It's like someone on the inside fucked it up for us. I know he was going to go with us."
I spoke without even realizing, catching myself after it was too late. "Jack wasn't going to—"
"What's that, Jacobs?" He really seemed to be enjoying this.
"Sam, please. There are all of these people around." I was starting to feel legitimately humiliated, beyond the usual Sam's just having a bad day flare-ups. My cheeks flushed red, so red that no one could have misinterpreted my discomfort.
"Who do you work for?" His fingers frenetically tapped on a nearby desk.
"I beg your pardon?" I asked, feeling like I was stepping face-first into a trap.
A wry smile formed across his lips. "Do you work for an escort service or something? Jack must pay you real well, huh? Better than I do, right?"
At the very least, this was sexual harassment. However, with the way he was going, I didn't know if I'd be able to maintain professionalism much longer. My blood was starting to boil as adrenaline overloaded my system. "Sam, this is—"
"You've been hiding this from me, haven't you? You've been fucking our star client, you fucking whore. A little part-time job?"
I wanted to spiral out of control, to run freely with any emotion I felt and deal with the consequences later. Yet via some minor miracle, I took my time responding, allowing myself those crucial calming seconds before my lips moved.
"Sam, stop. Relax. This is not cool." Was I dealing with Sam or Timothy? I couldn't not be reminded of the incident at the coffee shop. Was he about to knock me on the floor too? "You need to calm down." I figured he wouldn't listen, but I would try anyhow.
What was it with men accusing me of being a whore for merely being in the wrong monogamous relationship? Maybe I had become a magnet for sexist, misogynistic pigs without realizing it.
"What the fuck are the chances that Dan Miller ran into none other than Jack Teller in Beverly Hills this weekend, the accessory on his arm an Effie that matches your description to a tee? Was that you or was it someone else?"
I wanted to scream and cry and disappear all at once, if that was somehow possible. So much for the don't worry about him mentality Jack was pushing in reference to Dan.
Everyone was staring at us, and I didn't know how to react. I was trying to control a situation that didn't make a lick of sense to me. Who should I be mad at? Sam was being a total dick, but then again, Jack had invited me on the trip when I had wanted to take a break until this all cleared. Without that trip, I might have gotten out of the situation without a scratch.
I guess I needed to blame Stacy Levons on top of everyone else as well for inadvertently blurting out my title to the wrong person.
Instead, I was facing what looked like doom.
Should I lie? Just confess the truth? What I wanted was whatever would get him to leave me alone in front of everyone, to stop flagellating me in public like this was some medieval punishment ritual. Did he have a Catherine wheel in his office, too?
Sadistic bastard.
Dammit, I just couldn't lie. I was in a corner and this was too much to cope with. Sam's words had riddled my body with holes of vulnerability—and now I was bleeding honesty.
I was choking back tears when I said it. "It had nothing to do with it," I said. "Nothing. He wasn't going to go with us. No way. You knew that, too." There was suddenly a powerful shadow of doubt over the past few weeks. Sam had been hounding me as if he knew something, but I wasn't sure how he could know anything. I guess he just got excessively suspicious when there was a lot at stake.
He inconspicuously pulled a flask out of his pocket and lowered his head to take a sip. After all of this lead up, it actually didn't surprise me one bit. He stuffed it away before continuing. "You don't fucking know that! And you don't get to do my fucking job. That's why it's my job and not yours. I knew you were fucking him and I knew I should have ended this sooner. Would have made this bullshit a hell of a lot simpler for both of us."
Had he slipped up? What was going on here? "What the fuck are you saying, Sam? You knew about Jack and me? How could you know for sure?" His strange
admission had thrown me a loop, distracting me from the emotional blows he had already dealt. I was more concerned with solving this logical dilemma than my own future.
His arms crossed defensively in front of his body. "Effie, just get the fuck out of here and stop wasting my time. You're fired. MCI doesn't want you anymore."
All of the eyes in the room caught my response as he delivered the final, fatal blow—and then instantly looked away. I was like the trapeze artist that had botched it all and tumbled into the net, ruining the show for the sacred paying customers.
I had nothing left to stand on, no tricks or escape routines, no cloud of smoke to obscure my compromised position. At the very least, I had told the truth—but I still felt like shit.
Everyone acted as if they were ignoring the spectacle, yet it was obvious that they couldn't look away. I hoped at the very least they had witnessed him drinking on the clock and that they'd take him down too.
I felt defeated, pathetic, confused, subjugated. Why had Jack just told me to trust him? Thinking back on the incident, I was done the moment that Stacy introduced me to Dan. That was it. How could I have let Jack delude me into thinking everything would just be all right? I took a real risk going on that trip with him, and through that magical coincidence, got myself fired from the first real job I'd ever had in my life.
What were my parents going to think? Jesse? What about Jack? Would I be able to tell any of them?
"Jacobs, are you fucking deaf? Get the fuck out!"
Sam was right in my face, screaming at me. "Jesus Christ, okay, fine. You're nuts! You're losing it, Sam."
My eyes scanned the surface of my desk as my mind struggled to recall if I had brought anything with me from home. I opened the drawers haphazardly, digging to see if I had left anything inside. They were empty. If I had brought anything, it was probably gone now. I was usually on top of things, but given the humiliating nature of this situation, I guess it wasn't surprising that I was having such a difficult time.
I was losing my breath, my heart pounding as blood rushed through my body. I couldn't stay here any longer, even if I was accidentally leaving some sacred family heirloom behind. This was toxic, like poison gas as I breathed it in. Sam was unfazed, his eyes almost demonic, his lips curling into a menacing smile I'd never forget as I struggled to recollect myself enough that I could actually leave. It was far too obvious that he was enjoying every moment of this.