“What happened?”
Luna sighs.
“We loved him. Even though we’ve never done this before, I had the director watch my recording. The chief of casting called and spent an hour with him on Facetime. We found the ideal actress to play Kasey and they look perfect together. Today we offer him the role and he flat out turns us down! Turns us down! I thought you said he was a shoe in?”
I glance at Luna and she shrugs. “Fisher turned it down? Why?”
“He said he never wanted it to begin with. Now we have to start over. We had our hearts set on him.”
Fabian turns to face me. “You need to come to the office tomorrow and meet with the director. I’m sending you a bunch of headshots and videos. Go through them and help me find a backup. I haven’t told him yet. I want to have an alternative we can sell before I open my mouth.”
“I’ll go look right now. Fabian, I’m so sorry. This didn’t work out for any of us.”
Somberly, I trudge back into my office. He turned it down? It’s exactly what he wanted. Why would he do that?
As I walk to my desk, I notice a small box sitting in the center. It’s addressed to me. “Brenna? What’s this?”
“Oh sorry, that came for you while you were in your meeting.” She does jazz hands. “Mail day!”
She’s sweet and I know she has the best intentions, but she obviously doesn’t realize that no one can make me smile right now. Even the cast of SNL with guest star Eddie Murphy would have their work cut out for them.
I slide into my seat and stare at the box. It’s small and square. There’s no return address and the label is typed. Slicing the side with my scissors, I toss them back in my drawer and pry the box open.
Before I can look inside, Luna knocks lightly on the open door. “Got a second?”
I place the box on the floor by my feet as she walks in.
“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to fuck this up. Fabian was really pissed. I’m sure you are too.”
She ambles over to my desk and sits on the corner, staring at me. She’s oddly quiet.
She takes a deep breath after what seems like forever. “Here’s the thing. I know we’ll be able to find another actor. I’m not worried about Fabian. I’m worried about you.”
“Me? Why? I’m fine.”
“Are you?”
As I gaze up into her eyes, I remember how well she knows me and my already weak wall starts to crumble. I stare down at my hands. “I don’t know what I am.”
“We’ve known each other a long time. I was there when you met and married Oliver. I was there to see you happy, sad, and everything in between. The fact is, I never liked Oliver. I thought he was an ass from the start.”
I sigh. “I know. We’ve had this conversation a million times.”
“What I’m trying to say is that I consider myself a fairly good judge of character. I’ve been with a lot of men in my life and I feel as if my bullshit radar is superb.”
I lean back in my chair and run my fingers through my tangled hair. “What are you trying to say?”
“You’re a mess, Greer.”
“Wow. Thanks. See, I’ve known that for a while.”
She rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I mean. I know you miss him and it’s eating you up inside.”
My bottom lip trembles and I clear my throat to keep the tears at bay. I shuffle some papers around on my desk.
“He screwed up. I get that. But you know what? I liked him immediately. I didn’t get a single bad vibe from him. Not one. My meter never went off. Believe me when I say I watched for a reason not to trust him. He was almost too good to be true.”
“He wasn’t true, Luna. That’s the point. He lied. They all lie.”
“No one is perfect and to be honest I was relieved when he screwed up.”
Did I hear her correctly? I laugh sarcastically. “I’m glad it made you happy.”
“Hear me out. Fisher said and did everything just right for too long. Sure he can’t sing or play piano, he’s not that perfect, but he was damn near close. Tell me you weren’t waiting for the ball to burst?”
I gaze up at her intently. She has my attention.
“In the grand scheme of mistakes, this wasn’t the worst. And his explanation made sense. I think he was telling the truth. I don’t think this was about the movie at all. I think it’s always been about you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you. I know that it’s easier for you to believe it was all a lie then to believe the man really loves you. All those years I watched you fight for a morsel of love and compassion from Oliver. And those morsels were few and far between. When you got them you gobbled them up like a five course meal, but they were never enough. Then here comes a man who sees just how amazing you are and instead of accepting the meal, you’re still waiting to starve.”
I stand and cross my arms, walking to the window. “I don’t know what you want me to say here. I’m hurt that he lied. I gave him my heart and he used it for a movie role.”
Luna shakes her head. “Do you really and truly believe that’s all it was?”
I shrug.
“I’m not trying to tell you what to do. But I’ve never seen you happier then I have these last few months. And I’m sorry, but I saw the way he looked at you when no one was watching. Men don’t fake that shit unless they have an audience.”
I cover my face with my hands and Luna wraps her arms around me.
“No matter what you decide, I’m here for you. I just had to get that off my chest because I love you.”
“I love you too, Luna.”
We both wipe our eyes and Luna coughs lightly. “Alright, friend time is over. Back to work.”
She trudges out of my office without saying another word. Emotions are hard for her. I’m really blessed to have her in my life. Even though I know she meant well, his lies are still echoing in my head. I don’t know how to get past them or if I ever can. Although, she made a point I hadn’t considered.
Was I waiting for him to mess up so I could run? I want to say it’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, but knowing my track record, she could be right. I think back to all the times I expected him to disappoint me. I was scared he’d hurt me and I was anticipating it every time I saw him. That wasn’t fair to him and yet he never wavered. I do miss him. Should I have given him another chance?
As I sit back down in my chair, my foot kicks the box and it rattles. I’d completely forgotten about it. I wipe my eyes and lift it onto my desk.
There’s lots of bubble packaging. As I unwrap it, I see a taco menu folded around something. I don’t know why tacos and Fisher go hand in hand. I think I just have him on the brain. Inside the menu is a Ziploc bag full of shells. I gasp. The menu is from Florida. My heart constricts as I read the note.
Greer,
I know you’re done with me and I can’t say I blame you. I screwed up. Nothing ruins trust faster than lies, even lies made with the best intentions. I was wrong and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
I wanted you to know I meant what I said. Meeting you on that beach was one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I saved the shells you asked me to put in my pocket that night. I was going to make something out of them for you, but, well, we both know that isn’t going to happen now.
Take care of yourself. If you ever need me, I’ll always be there.
Fisher
The taco menu is from where we ate that night. He kept that too? What kind of guy holds onto seashells for months? I know the answer to that; a sensitive, caring one. A guy who might have actually wanted to remember me. Did he? Was he telling me the truth?
Leaning back in my chair, doubt invades my mind once more. Maybe I gave up too soon. He turned down the role. Why did he do that?
I have questions and I need answers. I pick up my phone and call the only person I trust to tell me for sure.
“Hello?”
“Chloe? It’s Macy.
Do you have a second to talk?”
“A second. What do you want?” Her voice is cold. She’s not the same person I remember. Is she angry with me?
“I was wondering if you could tell me . . . I mean, I was wondering if you knew . . .” I don’t know what I want to say.
“Listen, if you’re calling to bitch me out for hiding what you think is some deep dark secret then you’re barking up the wrong stripper pole. I have nothing to say to you.”
“You’re mad at me?”
“Hell yes, I am. You broke his heart, you bitch!”
I’m shocked. This is not the way I envisioned this conversation. “He lied to me, Chloe! What was I supposed to do?”
“You were supposed to let him explain himself to you and accept the fact he has flaws. That he makes mistakes. He’s human, Ms. Macy Greer. We’re not all infallible like you. He’s not some perfect guy you wrote in a book. He’s a guy who does dumb things but also really great, amazing things too. He’s the best person I’ve ever known in my life and for you to hurt him that way . . . I’m burning all your books!”
She hangs up on me and I stare at my phone. I immediately redial her number. She won’t answer. Holy shit!
I broke his heart? I remember his face when I told him I was done. I remember when I thought he might cry and I made fun of him. I know I was angry, but I was also really mean.
Is he okay? I’ve been sitting here licking my wounds and never once considered he was hurt too. Could he really have faked all those intimate moments with me? If it was all for a role, why did he turn it down?
I try to call Chloe once more and there’s still no answer. I text her.
Me: I fucked up. I’m going to call him. I’m sorry.
I stare at Fisher’s number for a second and think what I’m going to say. My phone rings and startles me. It’s Chloe.
“Hello?”
“If you really want to apologize to him you’re going to have to hurry.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s on his way to the airport. He’s going home.”
“Home? Like to Cleveland?”
“Yes, he’s flying Southwest, flight 2082. It leaves in an hour out of San Fran. Run, Macy. Go get him!”
“Thanks, Chloe. I’m so sorry.”
“Girl, stop apologizing. Go. I’ll forgive you when you fix him!”
I grab my purse and sprint out the door.
“Macy? Is everything okay?” Brenna asks.
“With any luck, it will be soon.”
Driving while trying to book a flight on your Southwest app is a really bad idea. Parking your car and not caring where isn’t good either.
I run through the airport like a bat out of hell. I just need to make his flight. That’s all I ask. I have thirty minutes to get through security and get to the gate. Thank God I have TSA Pre-check.
I stand in a short line that seems to be taking longer than the long line next to it. When I finally get to the conveyor, I place my purse on the track and watch it get sucked through the X-ray machine. I step through the people checker. No alarms. Yes!
I wait for my bag and it doesn’t come out.
I tap my foot as a guard walks over to the attendant at the machine. They chat for way too long. Is he telling her about his weekend? He lifts my purse. “This yours?”
“Yes, is there a problem?”
He snaps gloves on his hands and pulls up the image on a separate screen. “What would that be right there?”
“Oh shit. I mean sorry. It’s my perfume.”
“It needs to be in an approved quart size bag. Is it less than three ounces?”
“I have no idea.”
He reaches in and slowly pulls it. I feel my heart racing. How far is the gate? Am I going to make it?
“Keep it. Or throw it away. I’m really late. Can I please go?”
“This is expensive stuff. My wife wanted it and I said hell no. Unless Walmart carries it, she ain’t getting it.”
“Take it. Give it to her with my blessing. But please, will you let me go through?” I beg. “There’s this guy and I love him and he’s about to get on a plane and I don’t want him to leave without me.”
He sighs. “You sure?”
I nod.
“All right. I’ll keep it. Go.”
I gaze down at my ticket. “Where’s Gate 28?”
“Ooh,” he says. “What time is that flight?”
“Thirty minutes. Umm . . . I glance at the clock on his computer. It’s in ten minutes!”
“It’s all the way down that corridor to your right. You’ll be lucky to make it if you run.”
My shoulders slump. Maybe this is fate telling me to quit. Maybe I’m not meant to stop him. I want to cry. Maybe if I call him . . .
“How’s your foot?” he asks.
“My what?”
“That foot. Didn’t I see you limping?” He winks.
“Umm. Yes?”
“Pedro!” he speaks into his microphone. “Where you at?”
“Security.”
“I got a priority woman with a bad foot who needs a fast ride to 28. You got it?”
The tires squeal as a cart stops in front of me.
“Thank you so much . . .” I pause to get his name.
“Nelson. Go get your boy!”
I jump on the back of the cart and hold on for dear life as Pedro drives in and out of people, honking his horn the entire way. Nelson was right, I would’ve never made it. As we get closer to the gate, I see the back of Fisher’s head as he boards the plane. They close the doors behind him.
“No!” I yell. “Wait!”
I take off running, trying to pull my ticket up on my phone at the same time. I get to the gate and the gentleman shakes his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Once those doors are closed, I can’t open ’em.”
“But, there’s a man on that flight I really need to talk to. Please?” I beg.
“I’m sorry. No can do. If you step over to the desk, we can help get you on a different flight to Cleveland.”
“I needed to be on that flight,” I say in a whimper. I walk over to glass and stare at the plane as it backs away.
I lean my head against the window. “I should have just called him,” I say to no one.
“What would you have said?”
I spin around so quickly, I almost lose my balance. Fisher is standing before my eyes, bag in hand.
I jump into him and throw my arms around his neck, sobbing.
He pats my back lightly, but it’s different than ever before. He isn’t holding me. He’s trying to be nice. Have I lost him forever?
“You’re still here. Why? I thought I saw you get on the plane.”
“The bigger question is why are you here, Macy?”
He called me Macy. That’s not good.
“I got the shells.”
“Oh.” He resituates his backpack on his arm and glances out the window.
“You kept them.”
“Yes. But now they’re yours.”
I stare at his beautiful face. He looks tired. His face is stubbled as if he hasn’t shaved in a while. He makes very brief eye contact with me and then looks away, sighing. “Do you have something you want to say? I need to catch another flight.”
“Don’t go,” I blurt out the words the second he talks about leaving.
“Why would I stay? There’s nothing keeping me here.”
“I’m here.”
“You’re not mine.”
His words and the matter-of-fact way he says them feel like a blade slicing through my chest. “I’m so sorry, Fisher. Can you ever forgive me?”
His eyebrows furrow and he studies my face.
“I’ve been absolutely miserable. I cry constantly and I miss you. I know you tried to explain things to me and I didn’t listen. But I was angry and scared. I’ve been lied to before. I know you’re different. I know you weren’t trying to hurt me, but at the time, it felt all too familiar.”
/> His face is stone. I’m not getting through to him at all.
“From the start, I never believed a guy like you would ever even look at a girl like me. Then slowly, you made me feel like I was enough. You made me feel like we belonged together. Then you . . . and when I . . .” I choke back the words. I can’t get them out.
He gazes at the ceiling and takes a deep breath.
I sniff away the tears and notice a group of people watching us, including Pedro on his cart. “Pedro, please. Go help some other pour soul! And to the rest of you gapers there’s nothing to see here. Move it along. Mind your own fucking business,” I shout.
I rub my nose with the back of my hand and briefly glance up at Fisher’s face. He’s smiling. “You have such a way with people.”
I cock my head to the side as a tear rolls down my cheek. “The only person I want to have my way with is you.”
He reaches out and wipes the tear away with his thumb. “You hurt me.”
My chest heaves. I manage a nod.
“And I hurt you.”
I nod once more.
“How about if we agree to never do that again?”
“Really?”
He holds his hand out to me. “Is it a deal?”
“Are we shaking on it?” I ask.
“Don’t people usually hold their hand out and say deal when they expect a hand shake?”
“I guess.”
“Well? Are you going to leave my hand out here hanging? Are you refusing my offer?”
I stare up into his eyes and he seems to read my thoughts.
“I swear to you on my life that this was never about the movie. You had my heart the second I landed on top of you on that beach. You’ve always had it and you always will.”
I place my hand in his and he pulls me forward until I crash into his chest.
“Is that a yes?”
I grip his beautiful face in my hands and smile.
“Let’s make it official.” He lowers his mouth to mine and I throw my arms around his neck. It’s the best, most important kiss of my life.
There are cheers and applause all around us. We both grin.
“Show’s over, folks,” he announces.
“It was never a show,” I reply. “It was real.”
Book Boyfriend Page 16