by Natasha Boyd
“Ugh. Please don’t talk to me about your sex life.” I shudder dramatically. Devon roars with laughter.
We banter a little more as the party winds down, and people leave for other invitations and appearances. It helps that I capped the alcohol and don’t let anyone do drugs at my house anymore. That pretty much assures an early evening by L.A. standards. Before long it’s just Devon, Monica, Katie, my assistant, and Andy, who is anxiously texting, sitting around the littered living area while two hired servers pick up around us.
Audrey has gone upstairs to lie down. I know that pregnancy is tiring so I don’t begrudge her. She is growing a whole new human being, for Pete’s sake. Now that the touring is done, she needs to take it easy, and I need to call and tell my mother. I haven’t called home in a while, not even when I was in London for the premiere. I’m a shitty son.
“Isn’t this great, man?” Andy sighs, finally putting his phone down and getting comfortable. “I knew if you just got back here, it would all sort itself out.”
I nod. Andy has said this about a hundred times since I came back to L.A. with Audrey.
I’ve forgiven Katie for ratting out my location. She owned up to going out for a lunch date one day and letting Audrey stay at her desk under the guise of just needing somewhere to sit and write out some notecards. Audrey writing out notecards should have been a clue, but mistakes happen, and Katie was devastated and convinced I was going to fire her. There was no love lost between Katie and Audrey to begin with, and now it’s even worse. It’s actually quite comical to watch them in the same room together like two grown female cats in a circling dance of avoidance, interspersed with occasional hissing.
Andy sits back smugly and takes a sip of his scotch. “It was a gamble, man, but it paid off. Andy always knows best.”
“What paid off?” asks Devon, vocalizing my exact thought.
“The pregnancy, of course.” Andy laughs indignantly. “I mean, what else could have galvanized our tragic hero here to get back to reality?” He leans forward, shrugging off his grey suit jacket, oblivious to the four faces staring at him, nonplussed.
“What do you mean?” I try to ask, but whisper. My face and lips feel tight, like there is no blood left.
Devon stands up at that same moment and leans dangerously over Andy. “You better fucking explain yourself, and fast, because if you just said what I think you did, I’m going to fucking kill you.”
I’m staring at Andy, waiting for his response to Devon’s question. My tongue feels like a sack of cement.
I vaguely notice Monica grab Devon’s sleeve. “Devon,” she murmurs, and then glances toward the staircase where Audrey is gliding down, a large smile on her face, her eyes unnaturally bright. Clearly not napping. She stops dead when she sees the strained scene.
Audrey looks at me with confusion and then glances at Andy. I see the exact moment when she realizes. It is the exact moment when I see the truth in all of its soul-stripping agony.
I don’t know what she sees on my face, but I know she is suddenly rushing toward me, her hands open in supplication, and I am moving to put as much furniture between me and her as possible.
“Please, Jack. Just wait, let me explain. I didn’t know what else to do.” Her words and her breath are choppy. “I knew I’d messed up, but we both had a contract to fulfill and we were happy, weren’t we? I mean before? I just needed you, I mean us, to be together, so I could make it right.” Audrey tries to round the couch to where I’m standing, my back to the wall. She looks panicked.
I find my voice but it’s a snarl. “Stay where you are. Don’t fucking come near me!” I am still in complete shock and not sure I’m processing the enormity of the lie.
Her tone takes on a high, pleading note. “Please, Jack. I’m sorry, it was for your own good, so you didn’t break your contract, you would have forfeited half your royalties.” Her eyes are wide and begging.
“So you thought you’d make up a baby?” My eyes swing around. “Who else knew, was it just you and Andy? Who came up with it? Wait, do I even care whose idea it was?” It’s true, I don’t care. Not yet. There are too many other things right now. I can’t believe there’s no baby. I haven’t been sure how I feel about the concept, and now there is nothing. I don’t like this either. I’m empty. There has to have been a mistake, a misunderstanding.
I turn to Devon as if he can answer this for me, even though I know he can’t. I am finding it difficult to breathe for some reason. “God, it’s not true is it.”
“We didn’t know,” Devon manages. His voice is rough with emotion as he looks at my face. Monica squeezes his hand. Her elegant face is transformed into sadness and concern. Devon’s look also smacks of pity, and I think of the throbbing skin on my foot. I think of the might-have-been that this lie has cost me.
I know, right in that moment, that I would give it all back.
I would trade all of this and all of these people and every royalty I’ve ever earned to get one moment of the peace I experienced for the first time in my life. It is so clear to me that I wonder why it has taken me this long to see it.
My eyes fly to Katie, who winces at what she must see in my expression. “Can you fix it?” I bark. “I mean, can you get me there? I can’t go commercial, I’m a wreck, can you get a plane to Hilton Head? I think it’s the nearest private airfield. See who has a pilot available.”
I don’t know what I’m saying. There is no way I can go back there. Not after all of this. After what I did and the way I left.
But Katie nods, wordlessly, and fumbles to pull her laptop out of her messenger bag. “I’m so sorry, Jack,” she says again for the thousandth time in two months.
My skin feels hot and tight, and I am slightly nauseous.
“God, you’re not going to her, are you?” Audrey says, her voice pouring acid all over me.
I hate her. My look must tell her everything I feel right now, because she flinches as I turn her way.
Rage rumbles from deep inside me, erupting as I turn and blindly punch a huge hole right through the wall behind me.
Fuck, it hurts.
Everybody is frozen.
“You can’t be serious,” Andy’s caustic tone grates over my already shredded nerves. “Dude, that cheap waitress you messed around with, that’s what this is all about?”
I grind my teeth together, and taking a deep breath, finally turn to him.
My hand is throbbing and it stings. I cradle it. Blood, I’m sure, is pooling in the skinned divots. The pain helps me focus. I wonder who this man is, who I have blindly trusted for the last six years. Just what he would do for his next paycheck.
After several moments, where even Andy must suddenly know better than to offer anything else, I say what I should have said to him sooner. “You’re fired. Get the. Fuck. Out.”
E V E R S E A P L A Y L I S T
She Sells Sanctuary – The Cult
In the End – Snow Patrol
Steal Your Heart – Augustana
Only the Young – Brandon Flowers
Silenced by the Night – Keane
Hearts on Fire – Scars on 45
High Twilight – Daniel Isaiah
Run Dry – Civil Twilight
Hold On – Alabama Shakes
Madness – Muse
Special thanks go to Daniel Isaiah for giving me permission to quote the lyrics from High Twilight. (Island Records).
Thank you for reading Eversea. These characters would not leave me alone until I had them down. And even then, they would nag and nag until I had them and their story just right. They aren’t done yet, though. Not by a long shot. Also; Nick, Jack and Devon did go for a drink after he got his turtle tattoo. The scene ended up on the cutting room floor - so to speak – but you will be able to read it on BookishTreasures blog in late June/early July. Also of interest … Warriors of Erath was a real story. It was a short I wrote three years ago, and may revisit one of these days. Twin brothers M.A.X. and Damien … two
dimensions of reality bleeding into one another. A girl.
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Thank you to all my sweet friends and family who had to hear about Jack Eversea endlessly.
Thank you, in particular, to my husband for not getting jealous of Jack (or his pinterest page!) and encouraging me and supporting me every moment. I can always count on you to tell me what I need to hear – thank you for believing in me. Always. Doesn’t Jack seem familiar to you sometimes? My kids for dealing with chicken nuggets from the freezer every other day (okay, every day). You guys are my life!
Thank you to my editor, Judy Roth. I am so grateful I found you! And you love Jack and Keri Ann as much as I do!
To my Stormy Nights girls: Not sure how I would survive without you, you keep it real—everyday. Faith Martens and Karina Knowles - you fell in love with Jack along with me, thank you. Faith makes awesome book-inspired jewelry (I have an amazing seaglass Eversea-inspired charm bracelet! www.etsy.com/shop/HulaTallulah
My beta readers: Ana D’Apolito, Angelica Dawson, Melvina Davis, Carole Ronneberg, Jenny Needham, and unofficially, Sarah-Kate Bozza; All of your feedback and supportive commentary was amazing. Words from my betas like “I can’t believe this is your first book” and “I’m addicted to this story” kept me going many times when I wondered if I was deluding myself.
My sister, Cassy, who read an early draft with the view to designing the cover—I am so sad that your beautiful cover never got to see the light! Thank you for your time and care with Jack and Keri Ann. Cassy does amazing work: www.getocd.com
Thank you to Adrian Repasch who stepped in as my deadlines were approaching to take over the cover. Isn’t it beautiful? His Website is: www.design-geek.com
My friends and supporters on FB who have cheered me on, and Laura Carter of bookishtreasures blog and the New Adult Book Club on GoodReads—it’s champions like you that inspire people like me.
Thank you to my mother who showed me how to just be myself, and to always hold my head up high. You are beautiful.
Thank you to the mavens who paved the way in New Adult romance – Colleen Hoover, Abbi Glines, Tamara Webber, Jaime McGuire and so many more who are breaking new boundaries everyday – thank you for giving me courage. And also to J.R.Rain and H.P.Mallory and Darynda Jones. All of you inspire me.
None of his would have happened though, if I hadn’t overheard and introduced myself to two gentlemen talking in a coffee shop about their writing. They invited me to share my work with them. Too embarrassed to show them the measly short stories I’d been experimenting with, I decided to start a story that had been teasing me all summer long. Eversea was born. Al Chaput and Nick McDonald, thank you for continuing to improve my craft and inspire me every week. You took me to the next level and beyond. I am honored that you let me join you. I wouldn’t be here recognizing a life long dream without you.
Thank you to my ‘nana’ (Granny), Dorothy Magdalene Rosenfeldt. I miss you. Every day.
Finally – to all the teachers out there. There really was a teacher like Mr. Chaplin and he really did inspire a lot of children. It’s the highest calling to be a teacher ~ thank you.
A B O U T T H E A U T H O R
Natasha Boyd holds a Bachelor of Science in Psychology. She has lived in Spain, South Africa, Belgium, England and now currently resides with her husband, two boys and Tuna (the cat) on Hilton Head Island, SC, USA—complete with Spanish moss, alligators and mosquitos the size of tiny birds.