I fixed myself a cup of tea, watching her return to her car on the street down below me. It seemed unfair that she was going back to Bud, while I had such an amazing opportunity ahead of me.
When my tea was ready, I took a sip, and then looked around me at the piles and piles of garment bags, shopping bags, and shoe boxes. They spilled over from room to room of my apartment. I knew I needed to get everything organized and hung up right away or it would all become a wrinkly mess. I considered giving Pete a quick phone call, but I forced myself to stay focused. Normally organizing clothes would be on my top five list of favorite activities, up there with receiving freebies from interior design trade shows and watching old episodes of Three’s Company. It was throwing me for a slight loop that I didn’t care to take second looks at these clothes, many of them designer originals. However, despite my uncharacteristic apathy, I changed into an old concert t-shirt and some yoga pants and got to work.
Halfway through hanging up garment bags in my closet, I heard a knock at my door. My heart skipped a beat when I opened the door. It was Pete, looking cold and cute, holding a bouquet of pink roses.
“I know it’s late, but do you mind if I come in?” he asked.
I kicked the piles out of the way and smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Chapter 10
“You really didn’t have to get me flowers,” I said. I couldn’t stop smiling. I put them in water, trying to hide my excitement.
Pete followed me into the kitchen. “What’s with all these shopping bags and shoes?” he asked. Then his face fell. “Oh, I get it. They’re for the show, right?”
“Right,” I said, still fussing with the flowers, unable to meet his eyes.
“Congratulations on making it on.”
“Thank you.”
“When do you have to leave?”
“Wednesday,” I said. I’d never seen him look sad before. It made me feel a little sick. And very disgusted with myself. “I’m sorry Pete.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.” He shrugged.
“But I am.”
“Then don’t go.”
“Pete. I have to go.”
“You do?”
“I mean, I’ve gotten this far. I can’t back out now.”
“Don’t say you can’t when you mean you won’t.”
“I mean I can’t. I made a commitment to the show.”
“To the show?”
“Yes. To the show.”
“Okay. If that’s how you see it.”
“Plus, it’s exciting. It’s a big deal that they picked me.”
We stood awkwardly in the kitchen for too long, neither of us speaking.
“What time do you leave on Wednesday?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.
“I’m not sure yet.”
“They aren’t giving you a lot of notice about any of this, are they?”
“I guess not.”
“That might not be a good sign. To me, that says they don’t respect you very much.”
“I don’t know if it really means anything other than that they’re disorganized.”
“Well, be careful.”
“I will. The flowers are beautiful. Really nice.” I sniffed them. “And they smell really pretty.”
“I’m glad you like them.”
“Do you want a beer? Or we could share some wine?”
“A beer would be good.”
“Okay.” I opened two and handed him one, leading us over to the sofa in the living room. I sat down in the middle but instead of settling in beside me, he sat across from me on a chair.
Oh. So that was how he was going to be. Fine. No problem. In fact, it was probably better this way.
“I like this,” he said after taking a swig. He scrutinized the label. “It’s very… hoppy.”
“Glad you like it. I have a whole sampler box of microbrews I got for Christmas from one of my sisters. Her husband is really into beer.”
“That’s cool,” said Pete, taking a swig.
“Crate is more like it. There must be thirty bottles of beer. My whole fridge is full. If you look in there right now it’s just condiments and beer. Really, it’s kind of shameful.”
“Nice,” said Pete, glumly examining the label.
“Some of the flavors are quite unusual,” I continued, trying to lighten the mood. “For instance, pumpkin spice. That sounds horrible to me. Especially the spice part. Pumpkin, maybe I could handle, but once you add spices, well, that’s just gross. There’s also cranberry. I think that has the potential to be good. Let’s try that one next. We’ll split it. Then there’s lavender. That sounds bad. Lavender and beer are, like, opposites. Umm, coffee is another one I think. That’s a stout, of course. Do you like stout? I do. Anyhow, there are all kinds of crazy flavors. What I’ve tried so far has been good for the most part, believe it or not. I don’t have to work in the morning so we could drink our way through all of them if you want.”
“I guess I’m just wondering what you’re thinking. I was under the impression something is happening here.”
“Huh?”
“Weren’t you?”
“I’m not sure I’m following you, Pete.”
“What are you going to do if you make it to the end? I’ve seen those shows. I know the whole point is to get married. What’s your plan if it goes that far?”
“I don’t know,” I said. Couldn’t we keep talking more about beer?
“Am I crazy, or was something happening here?”
“Do you mean happening with us?” I asked.
Pete looked exasperated. “Yes.”
“Well, maybe. Maybe something was starting.”
“Maybe? Just maybe?”
“Okay. Yes. Something was happening.”
“Well thanks for mustering up enough integrity to admit it.”
“Pete, you don’t need to be like this. I’m going to leave soon and I don’t want to feel like we’re not friends anymore.”
“Friends? You don’t want to feel like we’re not friends?”
“Don’t nitpick over semantics.”
“I’m not.”
“You know how much I love those shows. It is such a big deal that I’m about to be on one. Can’t you be happy for me? This is just something for fun. It’s not that serious. And you knew about it before anything ever started with us. I don’t understand why you’re so angry.”
“I’m not angry.”
“Oh really? That’s not how it seems.”
“You know what? I’m not angry at all. But tell me what you’re going to do if it goes to the end and he proposes to you.”
“If it got that far, if I let it go that far, it would mean that was what I wanted. So I would say yes.”
Pete set down his unfinished beer, stood up, and walked out of my apartment without even saying goodbye.
Chapter 11
I spent the rest of my evening organizing clothes and taste-testing gourmet beer, alone. Since I’d started with the more traditional flavors, it got to the point that those remaining were so bad that I could only handle a couple of sips of each. The lavender proved to be the most terrible, as expected. Working my way through the beer was kind of like having a box of chocolates and wrecking each one with a teensy bite. Even though they were inedible to begin with, it carried a certain guilt.
At midnight I thought I heard Pete at my door, but when I took a look into the hallway it was empty. I considered going over to his place, but I figured he wouldn’t want to see me. So I packed for my trip and worked my way through even more bad beers. Throughout the evening, my mood jumped from sobby and guilty to self-righteously angry until I passed out on my bed a little after one o’clock.
At six o’clock in the morning I was awakened by knocking on my door. I wrapped myself in my comforter and went out to see who dared to bother me so early. It was Pete. His hair was tousled, his face was stubbly, and his eyes were bloodshot. He’d never looked better.
“I know it’s really early. I haven’t even fallen asleep,” he said.
“Come in,” I said, taking his hand and pulling him inside my apartment.
“I’m sorry about last night,” he said. He hugged me and I inhaled him.
“I’m sorry too. Come lie down with me,” I whispered, too sleepy to care about consequences.
“Are you sure?”
“We’re just going to sleep,” I said. But just to be safe, I stopped off in the bathroom and brushed my teeth. When I got to my bedroom he was nervously perched on the corner of my bed, waiting.
“Lie down. Go to sleep,” I laughed. I slipped out of the yoga pants I’d thrown on when the doorbell rang, so I was just in a t-shirt and undies and slid into bed. I patted the spot next to me. “Don’t you want to take off your jeans?”
He stood up and unzipped them. His eyes were locked into mine and I felt my heart start to race. He got into bed, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed me. He was so sweet, so passionate. My body pulled up to meet his, seeming to melt right into him. I pushed any thoughts of the future away, happy to have one perfect day with him.
**********
Okay, I’m just going to admit it. We had sex four times and then we got a gourmet red pepper pesto pizza delivered around three o’clock since by then we were famished. We watched National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation and split the last beer. The coffee stout. It was delicious. Then we had sex one more time and he spent the night. I am in love. I mean, I didn’t tell him that, but I am. It was the best day of my life.
Now I’m on a plane, somewhere over Oklahoma I guess, getting closer and closer to California. What have I done? Continuing on with this show is the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.
I will just tell the producers I’ve made a terrible mistake. I’m sure they’ll understand. In fact, if I wait for a day or two and announce it when we’re already filming, it could make great TV. Maybe they will even thank me for a bit of unscripted drama.
“Another Bloody Mary, Miss?”
“Keep ‘em coming,” I told the flight attendant, holding up my empty plastic cup.
“Are you traveling for business or pleasure?” asked the man beside me. Couldn’t anyone come up with a new line?
“Business,” I mumbled. I hate talking to people on planes. The chatty types know they’ve got you cornered and unless you pretend to be asleep, they abuse your captivity.
“Business,” he said, nodding and squinting a little. “By the way, I’m Mart Jarrett.” He shook my hand and fished in his suit pocket for a business card. “Here you go. What did you say your name was?”
“Emma.”
“Nice to meet you, Emma.”
“Likewise Mart.” I looked at his card. He was a Senior Managing Production Analyst. That sounded important, but not important to me.
“Let me guess,” he said, tapping my tray table, “you’re going to be an actress, right? You’re going to be on some new TV show.”
If we weren’t on our way to Los Angeles I might have been a little impressed. “Nope,” I said.
“Hmmm. You’re a pharmaceutical sales rep.”
“Close, but no. Good try though.”
“You’re in some kind of sales, though. Right?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, you’re attractive, and you like to drink.”
“Listen, I need to get some sleep. Nice talking to you.”
“Marketing?”
I shook my head, sliding my padded sleep mask that says Princess down over my eyes. Before I knew it, I was dreaming. Bellamy and I were shopping at an outdoor market. Only he kept turning into Pete. Somehow, they were the same person. My ears were hurting and I couldn’t choose whether I wanted to be with Bellamy or Pete, but since they were the same person, I realized I could have them both. Next we were on a bus. Bellamy had turned into Pete again, and I realized I was glad. I hoped he would stay Pete and not turn back into Bellamy. We were walking through the desert holding hands. I was so thirsty and my ears hurt so much! Then we were getting jostled around. We were back on a bus, rambling through the desert. We were going to crash!
I awoke to discover that we had landed and people were already standing up, gathering their luggage.
“You really passed out,” said Mart.
“I guess I did,” I said.
“You were mumbling. You sounded really distressed.”
“Oh, really? I’m fine now.” My head was swimming. How many drinks had I had? I started fixing my makeup since I’d been warned that I would be met at the airport by people from the show. I looked awful! The sleep mask had totally smooshed my eye shadow and mascara. I glanced up and saw the seats in front of me rapidly cleared out. Time was running out! I tried to discreetly pick some spices out of my teeth. Those must have been from way back at the airport bar where I got that really zesty Bloody Mary. Wow, was I a disaster. I popped a mint.
“Bye,” said Mart. “Have a good stay.”
“Thanks. You too,” I said, staying put, working a brush through my hair. “Go ahead,” I said to the people behind me. I spritzed on some perfume and touched up my lip gloss.
“I’m afraid we’re going to need you to clear out,” said a flight attendant when I was the last one remaining on the plane. I had just dumped out my purse onto the seat beside me in an effort to locate my face powder. I was also trying to gauge whether I had time to apply false eyelashes.
“Oh. Me? Oh. Yes, of course.” I stood up, gathered my purse contents, stuffed everything into my carry-on, and stumbled out of the plane. It wasn’t long before I saw an annoyed looking man standing beside two beautiful women, holding a sign with my name on it. I drew in a deep breath, trying to pull myself together.
“Hello,” I said, holding out my hand, smiling brightly. “I’m Emma.”
“Hello, Emma. I’m Mitch. I’ll be escorting you ladies to your new home. So,” he said, looking around him at the other women, “now that Emma has joined us, we’re ready to go.”
“Hi,” said one of the women. “I’m Cashmere. You can call me Caj. Are you from Chicago too?”
“Uh huh,” I said. “Were you on that flight?”
“Yes. We both were,” she said, nodding at the other woman, who still hadn’t spoken. “That’s Nickie. She’s from Rockford.”
“And you’re both on the show as well?” I asked.
“Yes. Obviously,” said Nickie.
“Oh, great,” I said. I hadn’t occurred to me there would be other contestants on the flight. I tried to recall if I had yelled at the flight attendants or created any kind of a scene. All I knew was that I’d had way too much to drink. I could barely keep up with the three of them, even though I had on flats (how dumb of me) and the other two women were wearing high heels.
“What about our luggage?” I suddenly remembered, stopping in a panic.
“It will all be brought to the mansion,” said Mitch, not even looking back.
“Are we going there now?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“Oh. Okay.” A mansion! A mansion! How exciting! I hurried along, realizing that part of what was slowing me down was the large carry-on bag I was pulling behind me. The other two women had somehow known to check everything.
“This way,” said Mitch, leading us outside into the warm California night. It hit me like a big hug straight from God.
“Ahhhhh, it feels so good,” I said, unable to contain myself. I couldn’t believe hours earlier I had been in blizzardy Chicago. Even though I’d been here just a few days earlier, I couldn’t help myself.
“You’re a freak,” said Nickie.
A limo was waiting for us. The driver wore a fancy suit and a little cap. He was holding the door for us, standing as erectly as a Buckingham Palace guard, and smiling with theatrical grandeur. I had the feeling he was an actor who happened to drive limos and this was his big break.
“Hi you,” Nickie said to him.
“Welcome, l
adies,” he said. We piled in and he put my carry-on in the trunk.
“Champagne?” asked Mitch. He poured us all glasses before we could answer. “To all of you finding love, with Bellamy,” he said. We clinked glasses. Even in my drunken state, I recognized that his toast made no sense.
“So, ladies, let’s get to know each other,” said Cashmere. “Like I said, I’m Caj. I’m from Chicago and I’m a model. Mainly swimwear, but other stuff too. Maybe you’ve seen me on water commercials?”
Nickie belched into the crook of her arm and looked out the window at the lights going by.
“I’m Emma,” I said. “I’m from Chicago too. I’m an interior designer.”
“Oh, cool,” said Caj. She looked at Nickie and then looked back at me and rolled her eyes, as if to say What a mess. I smiled, glad to be included in the joke.
“More champagne?” asked Mitch, topping us all off. I noticed Caj had hardly had more than a sip, while Nickie and I were already at the bottom of our glasses. I decided I had better pace myself.
“How will tonight play out, Mitch?” Caj asked, turning her bright, smizey eyes on him and smiling deliciously.
“You three will get a chance to change into evening gowns and fix yourselves up if you need to, and then we’ve got two other girls coming in from Florida who are going to be joining you. I think it will be about one o’clock when you get to meet Bellamy for your first cocktail party.”
“One o’clock in the morning?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“What? We’re meeting him tonight? Already?”
“That’s right,” said Mitch. “Are you excited?”
“But the producers said we were meeting him tomorrow.”
“Technically, it will be tomorrow, since it won’t be happening until after midnight.”
“Oh.” I looked at Nickie and Caj. They seemed to know this already. They calmly drank their champagne, Nickie still glaring out the window and Caj stretching her long legs, looking a little bored. I felt like a nervous little mouse next to two cats.
“Here we are,” said Mitch, as the limo took a sharp right and began to climb up a mountain. We went up, up, up, eventually stopping in front of a huge, rambling ranch house.
Bellamy's Redemption Page 11