Letters To Luca

by M. R. Joseph

  I laugh, and not out of rudeness, I laugh because she’s right.

  “You have a very valid point, Sierra. Yes, I should have, but I was an awkward, geeky teenager, who didn’t think she was good enough, or pretty enough, to have someone like him. I didn’t think he could possibly like me, for me. In hindsight I realize that all the things I loved about him should have given me the confidence to tell him, but I was young and feared being rejected.”

  “Then you just answered your own question. You liked him for him, not for his looks, not for his popularity, but for what was on the inside.”

  And she’s right. I loved him for him.

  “I would have to agree with you on that, but now I’m adult with life experience. I’m not that silly girl who loved him from a distance. I got to know him and love him as a man, not the boy I fell in love with all those years ago.”

  “How about now? Does your muse know why you did what you did?”

  “I tried to explain, but sometimes things don’t work out the way you planned them, and that’s the most unfortunate thing.”

  Sierra bends her body a bit closer to mine and asks me with a serious expression, “Are you still in love with him, with the person who inspired you?”

  I look down to my hands, I fumble with my fingers for a few moments, and look up to her, tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

  “Yes, I am, very much so, but sadly, it didn’t work out.”

  “So sorry to hear that. Sometimes we don’t get the happy ending, do we?” I shake my head no.

  “Well, you are ending the series on a high note, and my viewers and I want to know what’s up next for Brianna Maxwell.”

  “Um, well, I have put Brianna Maxwell to rest. She is no more. I’m not going to hide behind a facade anymore. A new book is in the works, but because of my contract, I’m not at liberty to discuss it right now, but it should be out by the holidays.”

  “Thank you, Leighton, for the beautiful story, and best of luck to you in the future.”

  I shake her hand, leave the studio, and a limo takes me back to my hotel, and I breathe a sigh of relief that it’s over.

  I check my cell to find messages from everyone I know, Wes, Kenz, my parents, the girls. They saw the show and loved it. My phone is ringing and I see it’s Katherine.

  “Hello, darling. What a terrific interview. I’m really proud of you, Leighton.”

  “Thanks. I was very nervous, but I’m just glad it’s over.”

  “Well, you done good, girl. So other than that, how are you doing, sweetie?”

  “I’m hanging in there. I’m exhausted though. I’m looking forward to going home tomorrow.”

  “Good because you are going to need it. You have a lot of writing to do.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. It’s almost done. I just have to polish up a few things.”

  “So have any plans for tonight?”

  “Yep. I’m going to a show at eight.”

  “Oh, yeah, what show?”

  “It’s a musical that’s new. I’m going to see a friend dance in it.”

  “And who is this friend?”

  “Jesus, what is this, twenty fucking questions? It’s Luca’s sister, Adrianna, ok?”

  “Oh, I see. So is he going to be there?”

  “I doubt it. It’s not opening night or anything. The shows been out for a few weeks now and I promised her a long time ago, before everything happened. She sent me the ticket last week.”

  “Ok. Well, I hope you have a good night, and make sure you wear those new Manolo Blahnik’s you bought there. Those are some freaking hot shoes.”

  “Fine. I will. Now let me go, I need to go get ready. I’ll call you tomorrow night when I get in.”

  “You have a ride home from the airport?”

  “Yes, Kenzie is picking me up on her way home from visiting my brother.”

  “Ok, love. Be safe and have a nice time tonight.”

  We hang up and I go shower and get ready to see Adrianna’s show. We have kept in touch in spite of everything. I try not to ask her about Luca, so I keep my questions to a minimum when we speak.

  The September air is beautiful in New York. I take a cab to the theater, but have it drop me off a few blocks away so I can enjoy the night air.

  New York is so busy. The hustle and bustle of the city excites me, makes me feel happy, and lately that’s something I don’t feel like. I get to the theater and make my way inside. I spot a bar not too far from the entrance, and step over to it. A few people spot me, and want to shake my hand. I do so, and give a few autographs. I am still caught off guard that people I don’t know recognize me and know my name. Little old me, signing autographs. Leighton Parks from Ocean Pines, Maryland.

  I get a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, and look over to the poster of the cast of the show. I see Adrianna in the cast picture and she looks simply radiant. I haven’t seen her dance before, but I know she has to be good to be performing on Broadway. I sip my wine and keep looking at the picture.

  “I’m not really sure where she got her long legs from, mamma was all of five foot two, and of course Papa shrinks every day.”

  The voice behind me startles me, but I don’t react that way. I stay where I am, feeling him come beside me, but I keep my focus on the picture.

  “Well, she’s a dancer, and by nature, they all have long legs. I guess genetics have something to do with it but not in her case.”

  “Yea, I guess you’re right.” My heart speeds up, and it’s either the wine making me warm, or it’s the man who is in such close proximity to me. So I turn to look at him.

  “I had no idea you would be here.”

  “Me neither. I always thought my sister was a sneak, but now I’m positive of it.”

  “That she is. So how are you, Luca?”

  “I’m ok. How about you?”

  “Good. Busy, but good.”

  “I, um, saw the show you were on today.”

  Shit, shit, shit. He never watches T.V. so of all days he watches my interview. Fuck my life. I have to answer coolly, act unaffected that he saw it, remembering the things I said.

  “Oh, that. It was just part of the press tour. Well, good to see you. They are dimming the lights so I better get to my seat.”

  The need to run smothers me and I try and make my escape, that’s before he grabs my elbow first.

  “Hey… Seriously, that’s it?” His fingers tips burn into my skin like hot pokers, singeing my flesh.

  “What do you want me to say, Luca? You want to discuss this here, now?” I speak in a hushed tone, and he looks at me, and shuts his eyes tightly. He looks impeccable with his gray suit, and baby blue shirt under it. My God I know exactly what’s under that suit, and I miss it. He inches closer to me.

  “No. This is not the place, nor the time. There may never be a time, I saw you standing here, I wanted to be nice, but I can see this is a tremendous mistake.”

  I take a step forward, his hand still grasping my elbow, but I move in so we are nose to nose. I smell him, feel his hot breath against my face, and my stomach clenches. Screw him for making me feel this way. I hate it.

  “I came here to see your sister perform in a show, if I would of known you were coming, I would not have showed up for your sake. Now please. I need to get to my seat.” He releases my elbow, and I walk away without giving him a second look.

  I give the usher my ticket and I find my seat. I get comfortable, drape my shawl around my bare shoulders, and try to compose myself from my run in with Luca. Ah, see, this is my life, here he comes, into my row, scooting by people already seated, and now… he’s sitting next to me.

  He takes his seat, adjusts himself to accommodate it and sighs.

  “Well, well, well. Lucky us.” His words have a cockiness to them, and really I don’t blame him.

  “Look, Luca, this is how your sister planned this. We had no control over it, so let’s just make the best of it, and as soon as it’s over, you will never ha
ve to see me again, capice?”

  He chuckles. “So still speaking in Italian are we, Leighton, or do I call you Brianna?”

  “Stop it. Should I just leave, because you obviously don’t want me here?” Just then a lady taps me on the shoulder.

  “Excuse me, miss, did he just call you Leighton, then Brianna? Are you Brianna Maxwell?”

  “Why yes, she is ma’am. Would you care for her autograph?” I cannot believe he’s acting like this. He is embarrassing me and I’m about to smack that fucking gorgeous, cocky face of his.

  “Oh, yes please, here’s my drink napkin. Please make it out to Audrey.”

  I grab the napkin and pen, and I’m fuming so badly that steam may possibly be coming out of my ears. I sign the damn autograph, say a polite thank you to the woman for reading, and turn back around crossing my arms in front of me, and I pout.

  “That was fun. Seeing you in action. The big author signing autographs at the expense of my heart, it was worth the price of admission.”

  As the lights go down, and the music from the orchestra begins, I move in for the kill. I grab Luca’s crotch and crush his nuts in my hand, and whisper in his ear, seductively, “You can go fuck yourself for all I care, and I suggest you shut your mouth and enjoy your sister’s show.” He squeezes his eyes shut, and seethes from the pain that’s invading his dick. When I release him, I give him a tight lipped smile, turning my eyes from him, to the stage, and watch the show.

  Intermission was fun. Neither one of us got up to use the bathroom, get a drink, or stretch our legs. The show is incredible, Adrianna is such a beautiful dancer, and I’m very proud of her. Luca flips through his Playbill, I check my messages on my phone, and it’s by far the most uncomfortable fifteen minutes of my whole mother fucking life.

  We sit, stoic, and watch the rest of the show. When it’s over I make a b-line for the other side of the row, just to bypass Luca. I make my way into the lobby when I see Adrianna and she stops me.

  “Leighton!” she yells, and I go to her, quickly before I see Luca again. I hug her and I’m not about to mention to her what happened. This is her night, I’m not about to spoil it like he did to mine.

  “Oh, Adrianna. It was terrific, you were incredible. Thank you so much for inviting me. I’m really glad I was in town to see it.”

  “Me too. I’m guessing you saw Luca since I got your seats together. I’m sorry I tricked you but it was the only way I knew how to get you both in the same room.”

  “Yes. I saw him and it was interesting.”

  “Did you guys have a chance to talk? He hasn’t been the same without you, Leighton. He’s so sad, so lonely, and I hate seeing my brother like that.”

  “Listen, I really don’t want to talk - “ Luca approaches us before I even get a chance to finish my sentence.

  “My baby sister, a Broadway dancer. I’m so proud of you.” He gives her a hug then steps away. He looks at me angrily, and I know this is my cue to haul ass out of there.

  “I have to go, but I’ll call you when I come back to New York during the holidays. Thank you for the ticket. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  I dart out and try to hail a cab. I have to get away as soon as I can. I wish I could get a flight back to Philadelphia tonight, and I wish I could erase the events of the evening, but the hand that now grips my shoulder tells me something different.

  No one, and I mean no one can get up my ass like this woman can. Who the hell does she think she is, acting like she’s the victim here? After I congratulate and curse out my sister, all at the same time for having a great show and sitting me next to Leighton, I run outside to stop her, to tell her off one last time. I find Leighton outside trying to hail a cab and I put my hand on her shoulder and spin her around.

  “Mind telling me why you decided to do a vice grip on my balls tonight, Leighton?” I speak to her through gridded teeth, and cross my arms over my chest.

  “Is this some kind of game to you?”

  “No, this is not a game, this isn’t anything. You’re angry, you hate me, and I’m not going to stand here and be made a spectacle by you. I’ve already been ridiculed enough for one evening.”

  “You a spectacle? You have to be kidding me woman. Try having a tabloid tell you that some Hollywood actress who’s been in and out of rehab ten times is having my love child. I mean seriously. You want to talk about a spectacle. I am a coach for Christ sake. All of this attention from the press is not exactly what you want the kids you coach hearing about you.”

  “I’m not doing this here, with you, Luca. It’s done. I don’t have any more to say. I said I’m sorry for hurting you a thousand times, what do else do you want from me, my blood?”

  She yells for a taxi, one stops, she jumps in, and I follow right behind her.

  “The Waldorf Astoria, Park Avenue, please.” She turns to see me hop in. “Oh Jesus Christ, what do you want Luca? Get out of my cab.”

  “No. I’m not going anywhere until I say what I want to say. You owe that to me.” My eyes burn holes straight through her, willing her to look at me, but she doesn’t.

  “Fine, but not here in the cab. We’ll talk at the hotel, you can scream at me some more when we get there.”

  “Good. That’s the plan.” I turn and face the window, watching the lights of New York shine in the night.

  “Oh, great, can’t wait.” She does the same, and the two of us stay silent until we reach her hotel.

  I follow her into the lobby, and we pass the front desk.

  “Good evening Ms. Maxwell. Will there be anything you need before you retire for the evening?”

  “No thank you, Patrice, but I do have an early flight in the morning. May I please have a five a.m. wake up call?”

  “Certainly, Ms. Maxwell.”

  I follow her to the elevator, step inside, and mock her, speaking in a way that I know will set her off. “Oh, Ms. Maxwell, is there any other way I can kiss your ass? Ms. Maxwell, got any good books for me to get myself off to? Ms. Maxwell, blah, blah, blah, bullshit.”

  “Just shut up or fucking leave, Luca.” She goes and stands in front of the closed elevator doors. The music inside is about to put me to fucking sleep. When they ding open, she walks out and storms down the hallway. She stops in front of one of the penthouse rooms and opens the door. She steps inside, and I follow her in. She throws her purse down on the table in the foyer, turns to me, and taps her foot.

  “Well, come on, get on with it. Continue the game, you are going to win, so let me have it. I’m waiting.”

  Her attitude really sucks, and if I could hate her even more, I’d put her over my knee and spank the shit out of her.

  She’s standing there on the marble floor, hands resting on her hips, waiting for my reply, and she looks so fucking beautiful in her tight, black dress, showing the right amount of cleavage, and those shoes, those shoes. Sky high purple heels. Her beauty makes me want to punch a wall or something. I have to be strong, but not when she’s licking that bottom lip of hers. If she crinkles that God damn nose, I’m a goner.

  “Stop looking at me like that. Just get to the point, and get out.” She screams at me and points fiercely at the door.

  Oh, man, she’s turning the tables, and now I’m furious, so furious I could take her right now, bend her over that sofa, and fuck the anger out of her.

  “Here it goes. I’m going to tell you all the things I really have wanted to say to you ever since the night you stomped on my fucking heart.”

  She laughs at me, and it only causes me to spew my anger even more.

  “You haven’t a clue what those letters did to me, do you? How they kept me in a positive frame of mind and kept me moving forward. They kept me from falling so further down into a pit of depression, I marveled in them. I was completely in love with my letter girl.”

  “Letter girl? What the hell is that?”

  “Oh, that’s right, you don’t know about that. That’s the name I gave you, since you didn’t have a name
.”

  “Oh.” She looks to the floor, then to her side, never looking at my face, which pisses me off to no end.

  “No relationship I ever had compared to her. At least not until I met you. I couldn’t go on decent date with anyone, because they weren’t you.” I push my hands through my hair out of frustration, and pace the floor in front of her.

  “Then to find out this is all a bunch of make believe, book bullshit. Some fairy tale romance in your head for your readers. You played me like a fucking fiddle. Is that why Michael flipped out on you? Did you do this same thing to him? Use him as research for your stupid books so you can make money? Look at this place, the fucking penthouse at the Waldorf.”

  I lift my arms out to my sides and wave them around this God forsaken room.

  “My soul paid for this. Do you even have a soul, Leighton?” After my screaming rant that I’m sure security will be called up for, I lower my voice an octave.

  “You are one hell of an actress. You should win an Emmy for what you did on T.V. today.”

  Her face is unrecognizable, eyes blazing with anger, her chest rising and falling then I see her eyes fill with tears.

  “You think that this was all an act, what I said on TV today? Can you even comprehend what it was like for me not to be able to tell you? I hid it from my family, my friends, and my co-workers. Only Katherine and my literary agent knew who I was. I was still that shy girl from high school, hiding from the world. No makeup, or a new haircut, or designer clothes could make me what I was really like on the inside. I was nothing. If I would of known what the letters did to you then maybe I would of have the confidence to reveal myself to you. I was so deathly afraid of letting you know who I was, for fear of your feelings changing for me.”

  I put my head down in sadness, thinking of what could have been if she would have told me who she really was. Things could be so different now. I could be supporting her in all her success instead of feeling betrayed by it.

  “My feelings changing for you? I didn’t know you, Leighton. You existed, yes, but on paper and I had no idea how to separate the two.”

  “Then why even care. Why didn’t you just throw them out when you got them?”