“I thought you were going to try and—”
“Char! We need to go.”
I look around Blake to find an irritated Zach holding the exit door open.
“There’s a party I need to get to.”
“I get it. Don’t want to keep your fiancé waiting.”
I cringe slightly before recovering with a fake smile. “It was good to see you, Blake. Tell your parents I said hello.”
“I will. I’ll see you soon, Charlie.” The way he says it confirms what I already suspected. That photo shoot next week for the magazine Zach is excited about is with Blake.
As I walk away, I feel Blake’s eyes on me, watching my every move. My suspicions are confirmed when I look up to find Zach shooting evil looks over my shoulder. He finally makes eye contact with me, his anger apparent.
I manage to avoid fighting with Zach in the car and at the party. I cling to Aubrey for dear life most of the night, knowing if Zach can get me alone, he’s going to unleash on me. He’s never hit me, but when he gets angry like this, when the look in his eye causes fear to build in my chest, I wonder if it might happen. He scares me, this side of him. I don’t see it often, and for that I’m grateful. The last time was when I brought up leaving modeling because I was unhappy. He got pissed, punched the wall, broke a knuckle or two, and a week later, after he thought all was forgotten, he proposed.
Afraid of what might happen if I said no, I agreed to marry him. I regret my decision most days. He keeps asking me to set a date, and I won’t. I’m not ready, at least that’s what I keep telling him. The truth of the matter is, I’ll probably never marry him. My heart belongs to someone else, and it always will.
Arriving home, I’m ready for the fight. I’ve been mentally preparing for the last hour with what I’m going to say to him to attempt to calm him down and soothe the situation. What I didn’t count on was how much he had to drink tonight.
Zach stumbles to the couch and plops down. Turning on the television, he flips through the channels until he comes across something that suits him. I think I’m in the clear, so relieving myself of my shoes, I make my way to our bedroom and change. I hear Zach approach me from behind, but my reaction isn’t quick enough.
He pushes me into the wall, pinning me with his body. I don’t fight him. I won’t win. He grinds against my ass and runs his hands up my naked body, clumsily massaging my breasts. He won’t be able to stand much longer. The last time he drank this much, I crawled on top of him, and he passed out moments later. I don’t like him when he’s like this.
Zach falls asleep quickly, just like last time. Tomorrow will come too soon for me, and there will be a fight. No amount of wishing or praying will change that. I can only hope he’s hungover in the morning and won’t start in on me right away. Aubrey will be here around noon so we can go to the spa. If I can avoid him until she gets here, maybe he’ll forget about it all together.
It’s been a week, and Zach still hasn’t said anything to me about Blake. I’m nervously waiting for him to blow a gasket. I can tell he’s been on edge since that night. Something is off, though, and I can’t figure out what it is. He’s been overly affectionate and attempting to cater to my every need. It’s out of character for him these days. He hasn’t acted like this since before we started dating when he was still trying to convince me to go out with him.
The photo shoot is coming up this afternoon, and I’m dreading it. Zach seems excited about it and has been on the phone rescheduling his appointments all morning so he can go with me. If he hasn’t already put two and two together, I’d be surprised. He has to suspect Blake is involved with the shoot today.
“Yeah. I’ll be there right after. Thanks for understanding. I appreciate it, and so does Char.” Zach hangs up the phone and tosses it on the table. “Alright, I have everything rearranged so I can be there this afternoon. Did you get the email they sent so you know where we’re headed and what to bring?”
“Yep. My bag is packed and already by the front door.”
“Good. We have”—he looks down at his watch, the watch I bought him for our anniversary last year—“a little over an hour before we have to leave. Want to get some lunch before we go?”
“I’m not really hungry but I’ll come along.” I hate eating before a shoot. I always feel heavy, no matter how little I eat. I know they alter the images so things look “perfect” but it’s still nauseating to think they have to alter more because I had lunch.
“If you’re not going to eat, then I want to go to the little cheesesteak stand a few blocks over. I’m in the mood for something greasy.”
Greasy is what he’ll get, too. That food is going to give him a heart attack before he turns thirty if he’s not careful. He eats there way too often, claiming as long as he works out, everything will be fine. He’s trim and stays in shape, but that doesn’t mean he’s avoiding clogging his arteries. One day, it’ll catch up to him, I’m sure of it.
Just as we’re about to head out the door, Zach’s phone rings. I watch as he gives his phone a curious look, obviously not recognizing the number calling.
“Zach Adams. Yes. Okay. Definitely. Really? When? That soon? Can you hold on a moment, please?” Covering the receiver with the palm of his hand, Zach directs his attention to me. “Milan.”
“Fashion Week?”
“Yeah. They want to know if you’re interested.”
“Of course. When would we have to leave?” I resist the urge to jump up and down, but I can’t contain the smile that consumes my face.
“Tonight. Aubrey, too.”
Holy shitballs! This is huge.
“What about the photo shoot?”
“I’ll reschedule for when we get back. Yes or no, Char?”
“Yes. Let’s do it. I’ll call Aubrey and start packing right now.”
Running to our room, I begin throwing clothes into a bag. I have no idea what the weather will be like, so I pack for all seasons, stuffing my bag as full as I can. Aubrey picks up on the first ring. I can hear water running in the background, so she’s either in the shower or about to be.
“Pack a bag. We’ll be there shortly to pick you up.”
“Um, okay. Where are we going?”
“Milan.”
The line goes silent, but I know she’s still there. I watch as the call timer on my phone ticks by while I wait for her reaction.
“Aubrey?”
“Yeah, I’m here. I just. It’s, you know. Wow!”
“I know. Pack. I’ll call you when we’re on our way. Zach is making the arrangements right now.”
Zach walks in the room, still on the phone, as I hang up with her. I listen as he apologizes profusely to someone on the other end of the line, attempting to explain the situation. I can hear the excitement in his voice. Our success is his success. This is a big success for us. As soon as he hangs up, I’m lifted into the air and spun in circles.
“Put me down. I’m going to puke.” Safely on the ground, Zach plants a kiss on my lips and grins at me.
“You. They want you. Everybody wants you.”
“And Aubrey.”
“Yes. I’ve made it clear you two are a package deal, but it’s you they want.”
“Don’t tell her that. It’ll kill her spirit. You should have heard her scream into the phone once the shock wore off.”
“Are we packed?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Almost. My bag is full; I’m working on yours. What time is our flight? I told Aubrey I would call her when we were on our way.”
“We need to leave in an hour so we have time to pick her up.”
I wait a few beats before asking about the photo shoot. I don’t know why I’m nervous to ask, but I am. “Did you reschedule the photo shoot?”
“I canceled it. We’ll reschedule when were back from Italy.”
“Oh! We’re they upset?”
“No. Blake said he would get in touch with me in a few weeks and we’d talk.”
Blake. He spoke to Blake. Why? He didn’t schedule the shoot with Blake. Did he cancel it with him on purpose? Is this his way of keeping me from him?
So many questions and no time to ask. I want to avoid the fight, anyway. We’re about to leave for Milan Fashion Week, one of the biggest shows there is. I can’t think about Blake, the photo shoot, or how this will affect our relationship right now. These are all things that can be dealt with when we return.
June 2000
Alice and Scott are having a homecoming for me this weekend. There’s going to be a cookout and my “brothers” are going to be there. I can’t wait to see everyone. And, up until this morning, I was super excited to be heading home. Then Zach ruined it for me.
“I need for you to call your parents and cancel. I’ve set up a photo shoot for you in LA, and we need to head straight there.”
“No, I’m not going to do that to them. They’ve been planning this for weeks. It’s the first chance I’ve had to go home and visit in a year.”
“I wasn’t asking, Char. This is important.”
“So is my family.”
“Of course, they are. They’ll understand.”
“They might, but I don’t. Georgie is headed to college in the fall, and I already missed his graduation. I’m not canceling on them. The shoot can wait.”
“Fine. You call the photographer and tell him you can’t make it. See what he says.” Tossing me his phone, Zach leaves the room with a huff.
I’m not calling anyone. This is what I pay him to do. He’s responsible for managing my appearances and scheduling everything. He knew I had plans this weekend, so he can call and apologize to them. I’m done putting my family on the back burner. D-O-N-E.
Grabbing my bag off the couch, I holler to him as I close the door behind me. The cab pulls up just as I hit the sidewalk. Perfect timing. Now I don’t have to worry about Zach running out the door and hollering at me some more.
I send him a text as the cab pulls away. If he reschedules the shoot for Monday afternoon, he can fly to LA and I’ll drive down and meet him at my apartment. He was invited to the cookout but declined his invitation. He’s met Scott and Alice before; they don’t approve of him, though, so he avoids any type of interaction with him.
Scott and Alice seem to think he’s after my money. Zach knows I got an inheritance from my parents, but he has no idea how much. Aubrey knows, as well, but I never shared the exact dollar amount with her, either. All I told her was it was enough to live comfortably on. I don’t like to talk about it. It makes me sad.
Since he has no access to my money, I’m not too worried. If I were to ever set a wedding date, I would make him sign a prenuptial agreement. That money came from my parents, from my Aunt. I plan on protecting it with my life. I don’t touch it unless I have to, and that’s only if I find something to invest in, like property.
I own an apartment in New York and one in LA. I’ve contemplated buying a vacation home, but I can’t decide where. Until I can, that’s on hold. I’ve bought myself a few cars over the years, nothing fancy, and paid off Scott and Alice’s mortgage, even though it pissed them off. Other than that, I haven’t touched the money, and I don’t plan to unless there’s a need for it. I make enough working to cover all my expenses.
My phone chimes with a new text message just as I’m passing through security at JFK. Zach has rescheduled my shoot for Tuesday morning. Not what I asked him to do, but fine. Also, he’s not coming into town. I’m assuming it’s because he’s pissed off at me, and that’s fine. I’ll still drive down on Monday morning. I need to check on the apartment, anyway, and a day alone will be nice. I don’t get many between Zach and Aubrey always hovering.
Scott picks me up at the airport on his way home from work. After a big squeeze and a few tears, we’re on our way to the house. As soon as I step out of the car, I’m bombarded by Alice, and the boys aren’t far behind her. Georgie is taller than me now, and Brenden is filling out more than I expected. It’s amazing what a difference a year makes. The changes are subtle, but I notice right away.
Even Alice and Scott look a little older. Alice’s hair is starting to gray a little, and she’s not trying to hide it. Scott’s getting a bit hefty, but the weight looks good on him. He’s always been very trim, and now it looks as if he’s enjoying life a little more, and letting his workouts slide. Good for him. I’d love to skip the gym even once, but it’s not an option.
After everyone’s settled in for the night, I step out onto the porch to call and check in with Zach. After I landed, I let him know I arrived safely, but I’ve been avoiding his calls and texts since then. Work is the last thing on my mind right now. This is supposed to be a vacation for me, my first in a long time.
“It’s about damn time. I’ve been calling you for hours. Where have you been?”
“Visiting,” I state unapologetically.
“I knew this vacation was a bad idea. Just because you’re not here, doesn’t mean you don’t have responsibilities you need to attend to.”
“Isn’t that why I have you? To attend to these things so I don’t have to?”
Wrong choice of words. I know it instantly. His silence speaks volumes as I wait for him to calm down, compose himself, and respond.
“Yes, partially. I’m also here to keep you in check and make sure you remember who you work for.” So much for calming down. “Your shoot has been moved. I emailed you all the details of when and where. I also scheduled another shoot for the day after. Your return flight has been canceled. I’ll meet you in Chicago on Friday morning, and we’ll fly home from there.”
“What’s in Chicago?”
“You have a meeting with a designer. Be ready to show him what you’ve got because if he likes what he sees, you’ll be attending Fashion Week in Paris and London wearing his new line. Don’t screw this up.”
“Anything else?” It comes out nastier than I plan, but I don’t care. He’s speaking to me as if I’m a child and I don’t deserve it.
“Yes. Aubrey is flying out to LA on Wednesday night to be a part of the shoot on Thursday. Her itinerary is in the email. You need to pick her up, and she’s going to fly to Chicago with you.”
“Fine.”
“Listen, Char”—he softens his voice before continuing—“I’m sorry for being so blunt, but I want to make sure you understand how important this meeting is. I need you to make it a priority.”
“It will be. Right now, though, my priority is my family and spending time with them.”
“One more thing,” he adds, changing the subject, the “all business” tone returning to his voice. “The shoot on Wednesday is the one we rescheduled when we went to Milan. I don’t want to hear about any issues. Understand?”
“I understand.”
I certainly do. This shoot is with Blake. He knows damn well I’ll be professional. If he was concerned, he’d be there to oversee the shoot. It’s not a secret he’s threatened by Blake’s presence in my life. He should be. Blake is and will always be the love of my life, and Zach knows it.
*****
The weekend goes by in the blink of an eye. Before I know it, I’m saying goodbye to the boys and Alice so Scott can drop me off at the rental car place.
“Take care of yourself, Charlotte. Alice and I worry about you, ya know?”
“I know. I’ll come back and visit as soon as I have another chance. Christmas, for sure, this year.”
“That would be nice. We missed you last year.”
“I missed you guys, too.” I pull Scott in for a hug, wishing I never had to let go.
My apartment looks just as I left it, only with a layer of dust covering everything. After I get settled, I start cleaning, mentally noting I need to hire a maid to come in while I’m gone. Alice came down a few months ago and cleaned for me since I hadn’t been here in a while. I felt bad about it, but I knew it needed to be done. Judging by the amount of dust covering everything, someone needs to come in every few weeks.
Hobbling over to the table where my phone is sitting, I dial in and listen to my voice mails. I delete the first three, all old messages from Zach. When I hear the sounds of Blake’s voice, I stand up straight, forgetting about my ankle, and scream out a string of curse words.
“Hey,” he answers.
“Sorry, I missed your call.”
“No biggie. I heard you’re in town already. I was thinking you might want to get dinner tonight.”
Looking down at my ankle that’s already starting to swell, I know I’m going to have to tell him why I can’t meet up with him. “I’d love to but I’m not really mobile right now. I tripped running for the phone and twisted my ankle. I need to ice it for a while.”
Blake starts laughing uncontrollably. I beg him to stop, but he can’t even form words. When he’s finally through, he apologizes, but there’s not an ounce of sincerity in his voice.
“How about I bring dinner over and take a look at it for you?”
“That would be nice, actually. Plus, I owe you a good Charlie Horse for laughing at me. Be prepared.”
“As long as I’m not within arm’s reach, I think I’ll be okay. Plus, you’ve always punched like a little girl. I’m not scared.”
While I wait for Blake to arrive with dinner, I unlock the door and get a bag of frozen peas from the freezer to put on my ankle. My foot is almost completely numb by the time he arrives with the food.
“You twisted it good, Charlie,” he notes, removing the bag of peas to reveal some discoloration on my ankle and foot.
“It still hurts like hell.”
“Keep it elevated and you’ll be okay in a few days. I was going to see if you wanted to go to the beach tomorrow night, but I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere.”
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