by T Gephart
“I love you,” he mumbled against my mouth. “I don’t think I told you enough these past weeks.”
I shook my head wondering how the hell I got so lucky. “No, you have been amazing, I couldn’t have asked for more. And I love you too.”
We stayed like that for what felt like hours—kissing, touching, caressing—reacquainting our bodies as we spoke in hushed voices. And I felt myself awash in a serene calmness I’d never felt. All those concerns—about him, me, us—just melted away. I had been waiting for the drama, expecting that no one had a right to be this happy, but maybe it was possible. In that moment, it sure felt like it was. And I was so eternally grateful to have found a man who got me on every level.
At some point we fell asleep, both of us waking in a tangle of arms and legs, not wanting to be apart even while we were unconscious. If I had any doubts in my mind, they no longer existed.
He was it for me.
As impossible as it sounded, he was my one.
“You look so serious.” He slowly unwrapped his arms from my body. “Is this because I promised you dinner and didn’t feed you?”
It would have been easier to agree, make a joke and laugh it off. I mean, we had been doing serious with Scully and the baby and life, this was supposed to be the fun part.
Why couldn’t I just lie?
“No, it’s because part of me is waiting for all of this to fall apart.”
He rolled onto his side facing me. “Why would it fall apart? And if this is about the press, I told you, they’ll get bored. Ignore them.”
“It’s not about the press.” I swallowed, wishing my only concern was whether or not they thought I was hot enough for him. “But because, we weren’t really meant to happen.”
I had danced around it since the first day on his doorstep, giving him just enough so I wasn’t a total fraud, but not the full truth. Not entirely. I had no idea if he would be flattered, or if he would think I’d somehow tricked him. That I had orchestrated our reconnection, seducing him with smoke and mirrors.
“That story you read, was never meant to see the light of day. It wasn’t written for you, it was about you.”
God, it sounded bad.
So.
Fucking.
Bad.
But I had already started so there was no point stopping now.
He listened intently, raising an eyebrow as I took a breath. “I had writer’s block and I just couldn’t do what I needed to do. Everything I wrote sucked. And then one day, I started writing about you. Not to sell, but to let the thoughts I had in my head play out on the page to see if there was any hope at all.”
“Nick and Blaire?” He laughed. “Come on, Claire. I’m not an idiot.”
“So you knew what it was? What I was?”
His finger traced my jaw, lifting my head to look him in the eyes. “Here’s what I knew. That a beautiful woman, I’d met years ago, wrote a funny and compelling story that very conveniently had me as the main character. Which ironically, is exactly what I know now.”
“But I’m—”
“Really fucking adorable.” He chuckled. “And for some strange reason you’re into me. Really into me. Like you couldn’t be any more into me if you tried.” The smugness radiated off him like he was the sun, the situation itself seeming to please him to no end.
I rolled my eyes, too far gone to be embarrassed. “You’re really enjoying this.”
“Oh,” his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, “like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Well, so there’s more.”
Did I really have to say it? Things were going so well.
Yes, it’s now or never and he deserved to know.
Did he really? He seemed cool with it up that point, let’s just assume he was fine with everything else.
No. We are doing this.
“The night you were drunk, I was going to break into your house to steal my story back.” The words came out in a rush, needing to say it before I chickened out and hoping it would silence the mental tug-of-war I had going on in my head.
He threw his head back and laughed, like I had delivered the best punch line in the world. God, I hoped that punch line hadn’t been me.
“You were going to break into my house? Wow, you really are a psycho, that’s kind of hot.”
“Stop laughing.” I elbowed him in the ribs. “This is what you’ve signed up for. I was a crazy person with bad intentions, who contemplated breaking into your home.”
“Claire, look at me.” He stopped laughing. “I don’t give a fuck what you think your intentions were. You didn’t break into my house; I let you in. And then what did you do with all your crazy, bad intentions? Nothing. Jack. Shit. You’re a good person. When I was lying there and you could have done something crazy, bad or both, you didn’t. You know why?”
Honestly, I didn’t know how he had an answer when I had no clue. “Why?”
A smile spread across his lips. “Because, despite what you’ve told yourself, we were meant to happen.”
Stop.
My heart.
“Nick, you are going to kill me with all this sweetness.”
I wasn’t even kidding, my heart felt like it was primed to explode and he would be the reason.
He shrugged, seeming to be unconcerned at my possible demise. “Just remember how sweet I am when I forget to lower the toilet seat.”
“OH SCULLY, HE IS SO precious,” my mother cooed while holding Sebastian. “You must be so proud.”
One thing I loved about my parents—well I loved a lot of things, but the most important thing—was they were good people. While other moms might have judged Scully’s decision to bring a baby into the world with no father figure and no real plan, my folks didn’t bat an eye. They respected her for her decision, right or wrong, exactly like they would have if it’d been me.
They may not agree with everything I’d done, but they loved me. Which was why I had avoided telling them when I hadn’t been doing so well. Because deep down I felt guilty for the blind love and support I’d been given.
“Thanks, Carly.” She looked at her son in the arms of my mother. “He’s pretty darn cute.”
“Speaking of cute.” My mother’s lips quipped into a smile. If she was trying to be coy, she really sucked at it. “How’s Nick? And when am I going to get to meet him?”
I rolled my eyes. I knew she’d waited patiently so she could slide it into conversation and pretend it was a coincidence, but she’d been dying to ask since she walked in the door. “Tonight. You get to meet him tonight, but don’t like . . . bring up anything embarrassing.”
“What could I possibly say?” She scoffed, looking at me like I was being preposterous. “That my daughter had a mild obsession with him and used him for inspiration for fan art.”
“Fan fic,” Scully corrected, the two of them obviously coconspirators in the effort to make me squirm.
“I already told him, so your blackmail material will do you no good,” I warned, glad for once my mouth had actually gotten me out of trouble rather than in it.
Scully huffed. “Well, there goes our fun.”
“You were planning on having fun without me? I swear, I need better friends.” Luke walked in, surprising us by coming home in the middle of the day.
“Luke, so lovely to see you.” My mom’s eyes lit up, kissing Luke on the cheek while she rocked Seb. “I thought you were at work today?”
“Great to see you too, Carly. And I’m in between meetings. I wanted to come by and check on my main guy.” He leant down and kissed Sebastian’s head.
Like the rest of us, Luke was smitten. Totally wrapped around the finger of a tiny human who would play us all like violins the minute he worked it out. But even so, it was surprising to see him randomly come home and say hello.
“Well, make sure you don’t need to work late tonight, we’re having a family dinner so Mom can meet Nick. And Scully and Mom have been plotting all day so I’m going to need some
one on my side.” I stood and gave him a hug.
“Oh, so you don’t want me to mention the storage tub in your room of bonus material?” Luke grinned, shooting me a wink. “Done.” His hand ran along his mouth like he was zipping it.
“Maybe it’s me who needs better friends.” I nudged him. “You want to grab some lunch? We have leftover sandwiches in the fridge.”
I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but the food was a good distraction. I also figured that if I could get him alone, then maybe I could find out why he’d decided to stop by in the middle of the day.
He nodded, giving me a smile. “Trying to bribe me with food. I’ll take it because I’m hungry, but that bullshit about a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach is a lie. I’ll still talk if given enough motivation.”
I grabbed his arm and tugged him into the kitchen making sure we were out of earshot. “What’s going on? And don’t tell me it was only to see Sebastian.”
His eyes glanced to the direction of the living room, Scully and Mom’s voices floating through the open plan. “Your room.” He tipped his head to the hall.
I hadn’t snuck around in my own house since I was sixteen, but I didn’t question him, following Luke into my room and closing the door.
My mind was swimming with possibilities and all of them were bad.
“Whatever it is, you need to tell me now because I’m about to freak the hell out.” My hands wrapped around his arms trying to keep my voice low. “Is Nick cheating on me?”
I’m not sure why I said it, but it was honestly my first thought. Things had been going unusually well for us and he was so perfect. Maybe a little too perfect, which was why I secretly wondered when something was going to come and mess it all up.
“You think Nick’s cheating on you?” Luke asked, a genuine look of surprise on his face.
“No, I don’t think so. Or at least I didn’t. Please, just tell me.” I couldn’t even think straight let alone talk, my heartbeat thundering in my chest as I waited for whatever bad news I knew was coming.
“I have no idea if he’s cheating on you, and if you suspect it, then maybe you two need to have a talk. But that’s not what this is about.”
Luke had chosen his words carefully which meant it was definitely about Nick. Until now, Luke had been one of the biggest supporters of our relationship, only trumped by Scully.
“But it is about him, so spill.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I had a meeting today about a new contract, working on The Blue Line.”
“Oh my God, you’ll be working on Nick’s series? That’s great.” I threw my arms around him feeling myself sag in relief. It was wonderful. With both Nick and Luke on set maybe I wouldn’t feel so weird when I visited.
Except.
He wasn’t smiling, the joy I felt one-sided as I pulled away from him. “Why do I feel like this isn’t a good thing even though it sounds like it’s a good thing?”
“It is a good thing . . . for me. They have a big budget and I’ll be staying for the entire season, maybe even longer if it works out. But when I was there, Audrey Rydell was there too. She had some meeting with the director or something. And while I was waiting, we got to chatting.”
“She’s married,” I fired back, knowing that while I’d had stupid suspicions about her before, I’d done my due diligence and investigated. Besides, Nick had hardly mentioned her, so if he was even remotely interested in her, then he was CIA level at hiding it.
“I know she’s married.” He rolled his eyes. “Stop hypothesizing and listen. So, she has this meeting and I could tell she was nervous. Anyway, we got talking about jobs and she mentions that she is unsure about staying on. You know, they are probably going to let her write some episodes, let her get her feet wet but she was approached by someone else to be a main writer on something new.”
Luke had a talent for making people talk. Scully and I had often joked his smile was laced with sodium pentothal or that his eyes were capable of hypnosis. Five minutes with his charm and you were spilling all of your secrets whether you wanted to or not.
“So you guys besties now?” I laughed, wondering if this was his subtle way of telling me I’d been replaced. “Because she might be more successful than me but she will not con her way into Salvatore Ferragamo to get you those loafers that were apparently sold.”
“The story she was asked to adapt, the one where she’ll be the main writer, is yours, Claire.” His words shot out. “A director has given her your story and asked her if she’d be interested.”
No, that was impossible.
“Well that’s crazy, Jeremy hasn’t even optioned it yet. It hasn’t been sold to anyone.” I tried to laugh, but not able to manage it.
“You’re smarter than that, Claire,” he warned, looking pissed off, and I wasn’t sure if it was at me or the situation. “You think a network is just going to hand over money without getting a second opinion? You’re a script reader at the moment, it is literally your job to read something and give your report before anyone puts any cash on the table.”
Well, sure, I guess that made sense. But wouldn’t I have been told or something, a little heads up?
“What are you saying, that there’s a possibility that someone is going to buy it but they want her to adapt it?” I hadn’t even considered the possibility, the words sticking in my throat as I said them.
“Yeah, it means you need to call your agent and find out what the fuck is going on. Someone is trying to sandbag you, and I have no idea if Nick is in on it, but he’s definitely who they have in mind for the lead.”
I felt my body lower as I sat down on the bed, feeling dizzy as I tried to work out exactly what he was saying. He joined me on the bed, holding my hand as he told me the whole story.
Audrey was rumored to be getting her chance to write an episode or two, but it was a long shot that she’d replace anyone fulltime. Not unless one of the regular writers left or was embroiled in some sort of drama. So, if she wanted her chance to move up from the kiddie table, she was going to have to look elsewhere. Or stay, and push someone down the stairs.
Luke—his good looks, sympathetic ear and hypnotic charm—had managed to tease out of her what project she was considering. Not because he’d suspected it had anything to do with me, but because he was a nosey bastard like the rest of us and liked to be in the know. He was a good friend to have around who knew more about people in our industry than even I had assumed. Probably how he was able to get me the job as a script reader in the first place, something I hadn’t questioned at the start because I didn’t want to know the answer.
“Are you sure it’s mine, maybe it’s something that sounds like mine. I mean, it’s not like there’s anything original in Hollywood anymore.” I was grasping at straws, hoping against hope he was mistaken.
“It’s the same. She even mentioned Nick, saying that it would be good to work with a leading man she was already familiar with. Apparently they’ve been looking for a project together for some time.”
I knew that, Nick had told me earlier, and it had been something I’d hoped we—as in me and him, not Audrey—would have together as well.
But I’d told both Nick and Jeremy I wanted to be the one to adapt my story. Worried that someone else would screw it up, take my words and make it look stupid. If it had been something else . . . maybe it wouldn’t feel so personal, but this was Nick and me. I had to be the one.
It was supposed to be me.
I felt like I was going to be sick.
My head fell into my hands as I prayed for the room to stop spinning, the questions overwhelming me as I tried to make some sense of it.
Did he know? Take me to his agent, get me to agree so he could have a custom made role and then cut me out? He wouldn’t do that. He just wouldn’t.
“Claire, call Jeremy find out what’s happening and then call Tyler.”
My head snapped up in a panic. “Your friend the lawyer?”
It wasn’t true.
I couldn’t let myself believe that a man who I’d fallen in love with would do that to me. Use a weakness in me and exploit it. It made no sense. I’d told him, he knew what I wanted. There was no reason for him to do this.
Nick was already successful, he’d won awards, was in magazines, had the critical acclaim—he didn’t need me or my stupid story. Why?
“He isn’t involved. He just isn’t.” I shook my head refusing to believe he knew. “He’s not some nobody looking for his big break, he can literally pick and choose his projects, scripts are tossed at him like confetti.”
“Yeah, like he’s working on something now?” Luke’s eyebrow rose with suspicion.
“He’s on a break, maybe he decided to take the summer off.”
It was true that the last couple of years Nick would do side projects during The Blue Line’s hiatus. Nothing huge because his filming schedule started back in the fall, which didn’t allow much time, but he always seemed to do something. I assumed after his drunken night and then later confession about the pressure he’d been under, he’d decided to take a break. I was even hopeful that maybe I had been a reason, his lack of projects giving us time to be together.
Luke put his arm around me, pulling me close to his chest. “Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t. I don’t know, Claire. But you owe it to yourself to find out what’s going on.”
He was right, and I refused to be a dumb love-struck moron who thought it was better to bury their head in the sand than know the truth.
“Thanks.” I hugged him back, knowing that no matter what happened, he and Scully would be my safe place to land.
“I have to get back to work, but I’ll be home in time for dinner.” He kissed the top of my head. “You know I love you, Claire. And the last thing I want is to see you get hurt.”