by S. L. Scott
When I enter, I stand in the doorway. “Reese?” It’s clear she’s not here. I check my watch again. Damn. I hope she’s not pissed that I’m late. She knows how flaky flights can be. It’s not the first time I’ve been delayed or even had a flight cancelled altogether. She’s always understood in the past. I don’t know why she’d be mad this time.
That’s when I see it, or should I say don’t see it… her stuff. I walk into the room and straight to the closet. Opening it wide, her stuff—it’s gone. Turning behind me, the room is empty.
Of personality, of life, of love.
The room is how it was before I met her.
I dash into the bathroom. The counter is cleared, the drawers that held her toiletries now empty, the medicine cabinet left bare. Shit! I grab my phone from my pocket but find the ring instead. Going into the living room, I sit on the couch and set the ring, box lid hinged open, in front of me on the coffee table. I dial her number as I stare at the ring.
On the fourth ring I go to voicemail. “Reese, it’s me. I’m home. Where are you? Call me. I want to see you. We need to talk.” When I hang up, I set my phone down next to the box. That’s when I notice the magazines on the table beneath it. I slide them out and look. Me. Ads I’ve done. Why are they here? I look back at the diamond ring sparkling from the light coming in through the open blinds.
My eyes close as my head drops into my hands. Fuck. Looking at the magazines, almost all of them are of me and another model—female models. And not just from photo shoots. I always left the parties alone, but I know photos can be deceiving.
Damn it, Reese. I call her again. When the voicemail tone sounds, I say, “Reese, please call me back. I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re not here and I want to see you. So badly. I need to see you. Please. Call me back. I love you.”
I sit there with the phone set on top of a stack of magazines. Staring at the diamond in the middle of the black velvet box as the sun sets outside the window, the stripes from the blinds drift across the wall until it’s dark—inside and out.
She hasn’t called. Still on Paris time, my eyes grow heavy as I stare at the two-carat princess cut sparkler I picked out just for her. Saving a percentage from my paychecks for this ring, I wanted her to have the best, the prettiest. The ring reminds me of her. Shutting the lid, I don’t want to see it anymore.
Checking my phone just in case it somehow miraculously rang and I didn’t hear it, I’m still lost on what is happening. I get up, shove the ring and my phone in my coat pockets and take off. As soon as I get in my car, I start it but I don’t back out. I’m not sure where to go. Our closest friends have graduated and moved away. Reese has a part-time job on campus. I decide that’s my only hope.
I stand in front of the alumni house, but logically I know it’s not open at this hour. It’s just gone eight at night. I knock on the door anyway, hoping what deep down I know is true is not happening, hoping she just got caught up in work and missed our date. I’m standing there knocking, praying her clothes, her stuff, that her being gone is all just a misunderstanding that can be cleared up.
No answer.
Not just the door, but for all my other questions as well.
Getting back into my Jeep, I sit there, staring at the empty parking lot, not knowing what to do, where to go, what to think. I thought we were happy…
I was happy.
My phone rings and I jump to answer, scrambling to pull it from my pocket. “Hello? Reese?”
“Danny Weston?”
My body deflates in disappointment when I hear an unfamiliar male voice on the other end. “Yes,” I answer.
“This is a reminder call that you have two movies overdue. I’m sorry, but we’re going to be charging your credit card on file unless you return them.”
“Charge it.” I hang up.
I start the car, and crank up the heat. Nebraska is so damn cold. While I drive back to the apartment, it starts snowing. First snow of the season. “Fuck you, Mother Nature.”
My hands slam down on the steering wheel, my heart icing over like the road I’m on. I walk back into the apartment and check my messages. There are no new ones. I grab the box and am about to rip it from the wall, but I can’t. I can’t risk missing a call from her.
I try calling her twice more before I tuck the ring into my drawer, hiding it under some boxers. I climb into bed and flick on the TV. Hours pass and I have no idea what’s been on or even what’s on TV now. I turn it off just after midnight and stare at the ceiling while snow falls outside, tormenting me and our tradition.
The next day I have no choice. I drive the three hours back to her hometown. Her dad stands in front of me explaining that his daughter has moved to New York, lectures me that if I had loved her, I would know this. The door is shut in my face. I don’t know how long I stand there, but it’s long enough for Reese’s mother to reopen it and step out. “Danny, I’m sorry.”
“Give her time.”
“She’s hurt.”
“She doesn’t want to hold you back.”
“She’s been so lonely.”
“She tried to get ahold of you, but there was no way.”
“She’ll come around.”
I don’t hear the rest, my head pounding while I have it confirmed. Everything I truly loved has gone away. Give her time… She’s been lonely? I was so lonely. I may have been surrounded by people while working, but not the one person who made me whole. I missed her every fucking day.
Stumbling back to my car, I lean against it, not able to comprehend what I just heard, my heart refusing to accept that Reese left. Left. Me.
I need to get away from here, from the memories, from this life, and this fucking snow. When I get in my car, I figure out what I have to do. The trip is long, the mileage racking up. I stop for gas, for food, and the occasional coffee to keep me awake, but I keep driving until I see the sign—Welcome to California.
Walking into the Los Angeles Illustrious offices the following Monday, I don’t give myself time to change my mind.
The receptionist smiles and I ask for Mark Warrant. I’m led to his desk in The Pit. He pulls a chair up and I sit in the small space. “I need work. As much work as you can fill my weeks with.”
“What about Nebraska? As I said before, it would be easier if you were in New York or even LA.”
“I’m here now. Can you get me more work?”
He smiles. “I can get you a lot of work. Are you sure you’re ready for the commitment?”
Commitment…
“I’m ready.”
Shaking my hand, he says, “Get ready, Danny Weston. I’m about to make you famous.”
Present Day
I SPENT EXTRA time in makeup. The stress of the last few days has engraved tired lines into my face. Standing next to the vintage Aston Martin, I look away from the camera. Claudia is sitting in the car, her expression matching mine with different troubles on her mind.
A Papillon barks at my feet. I bend down and pick it up, careful not to mess the expensive midnight-black Vittori suit I’m wearing. I let the dog lick my face and hear Claudia laugh as she lifts her sunglasses and stands up. Leaning across the seats, she pets the small dog. It’s a moment captured for future use. Even I know it’s gold to get something “natural” on camera.
When I set the dog down, it runs to its handler, leaving Claudia looking into my eyes. When I lower mine, she mimics and I offer her a hand. Her dress is long and she’s slow as she moves it with her and sits down in the passenger’s seat. I get in the car and pretend to start it.
We’re told to look back and give a farewell. When we do, I see Reese on the phone behind Becs. I fulfill my role and Bryker finally yells, “That’s it. Last shot.” He hands his camera to his assistant and claps his hands together. “Thank you. It’s going to be a stunning campaign.”
I face forward and exhale a long breath. Claudia stays next to me, staring ahead, lost in her thoughts. I reach over and take her hand. Wh
en she looks at me, I say, “You were good.”
A smile not often seen tempts her mouth. “You were good. We were good. I think it will be very successful.”
Nodding, I put my hands on the steering wheel. “Where do you head next?”
“Nowhere.”
“Home?”
She laughs. “Where is that again? It’s been awhile.”
Relating, I chuckle. She gets out of the car and shuts the door. “I’m glad I know you, Danny.”
Scooting up on top of the door, my smile fades, her sentiment catching me off guard. “I’m glad I know you, too, Claudia.”
This time she nods, and then picks up the skirt of the dress so it doesn’t drag and walks to Becs.
Reese joins me car side, and says, “Vinnie is going to love these shots.”
“I hope so.” I’m not sure what else to say. I’m aggravated because I’m not even sure what to do around her, or what I can do. I get out of the car and mumble, “I should return this suit.”
“Don’t do this. Please.”
The tremble in her voice hits deep, gutting me. “Reese, don’t make this harder than it is already.”
Taking a step closer, she touches me cautiously on the arm. “You’re shutting down on me.”
I am.
“I’m not.”
The sky blue in her eyes clouds over, and this time, she lets me walk away. The gravel crunches under my leather shoes, but the raging in my ears from the lie I just told overpowers it. Becs sees me coming.
My devastation.
My resolve.
She’s quiet as she stands behind me and helps me remove the suit jacket. I loosen the tie, but it’s caught. After she hangs the jacket on the rack, she comes around and helps me. “I’ve got it.” As her nimble fingers slip it neatly through the knot and she pulls it from around my neck, she stops in front of me. “You can talk to me.”
“I know.”
“Trust me, you do not want me to sing “That’s What Friends Are For” to you. I’m a God-awful singer. Spare us both the trouble and talk to me, Danny.”
My eyes burn, so I squeeze them shut. “I can’t.”
“You should. You need to talk to someone and if you can’t talk to Reese, talk to me. I’ll help however I can.”
Getting my emotions in check, my specialty after all the years I’ve modeled, I put on a smile—it might not be my million-dollar one, but it’s at least a 10K one—for her. “I’m paying the price for making a deal with the devil.”
She knows me too well to let the charade of my expressions cover the words I’m saying. Like I hoped. Focusing on the real issue, she asks, “And who’s the devil?”
“Klein Advertising.”
“Ahh,” she says, seeming to understand. “So it’s true? You were served for breach of contract?”
I unbutton my shirt and hand it to her. “I was served for letting her leave ten years ago. I’m just paying the price now.”
“Are you? Are you going to pay the price?”
“I want to. My legal team says no.”
“Well, you’re the one who makes the final decision. How much is love worth to you?”
“That’s not fair, Becs.”
“You know what’s not fair? Turning your back on someone who loves you as much as she does.”
I follow her gaze straight to Reese who is back on the phone and pacing behind the car. It’s clear she’s upset. Her hands are swinging around making her point to someone who can’t see them. Her head is down as she talks intently.
“I’m not turning my back on her. I need to figure out the best way to handle this.”
“Are you talking about the lawsuit or Reese Carmichael?”
I strip down my pants, not even caring I’m not behind the screen. I need to get the fuck out of here. I warn, “Careful.”
“No, I’m not going to be careful. We’re friends, remember? So I can tell you when you’re screwing up.” She snatches the pants from me and throws my jeans at me. “You’re screwing up, Danny.”
Holding the jeans against my chest, I stare at her. “What has gotten into you?”
Her irritation lessens and she says, “That woman is ready to give up her life for you. Can you say the same?”
“I have to consider all the options.” The words come rushing out. “I picked her once and she left.” Shit. To throw her off my heart’s pain gushing out through the open wound, I think fast and let my wallet speak instead. “It’s a lot of fucking money.”
“You picked her once?”
Fuck. Of course, she sees. She is a woman. They don’t miss anything. I pull my jeans on and slip on my socks. “Yeah,” I mutter. “I was ready to give it all up for her. And she left me.”
Becs is there, her hands rubbing my arm in consolation. “Oh, Danny. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make things worse. I’m trying to make you see what you have. The second chance you’ve been given.” I look over at Reese. She’s hung up and talking to Bryker. When I turn back, Becs asks, “Money gives us security but it doesn’t keep the bed next to us warm.” She walks away, leaving me with flashes of holding Reese all night and how good that felt, how good she feels in my arms.
The sheets are warm when we’re together. It occurs to me that it’s never been about hating cold sheets. It’s always been about the sheets being warmed by the right woman, by someone who turns my life upside down and then rights it again.
I look back at Reese. She glances my way but looks away just as quickly. That woman. That woman right there.
She’s my someone.
Reese is my someone.
I shove my sneakers on and grab Becs into a tight hug. “Thank you.”
She says, “For what?”
“For making me see it’s never been about the sheets.” I kiss her cheek and do a one-eighty.
With purpose, I go to her, walking past Bryker and Claudia, and head straight for Reese, who’s separated herself from the group and is back on the phone. She sees me and turns her back. But I move around and bend down so I’m eye level with her. “Hang up the phone.”
Her pretty little face scowls and places her hand over her ear. “I’m sorry. Can you repeat that? I’m getting interference.”
“Hang up the phone, Reese.”
She squints at me in warning and points at the phone, mouthing, “This is an important call.”
I take the phone from her hands and tell whoever’s on the other end, “Reese will call you back.” I end the call and toss the phone into the grass nearby.
“What the hell are you doi—”
Grabbing her by the waist, my lips are on hers. Her shock relents and her body softens against me, her hands are on my back, pulling me closer. Her lips become insistent as she lifts up on her toes and wraps her arms around my neck. I pick her up and spin us around. Her feet go into the air behind her as she holds on as tight as she can. When I set her down, we pull back, both breathless.
I’m met with a smile made of pure sunshine, filled with beauty. “I don’t care about the money. I only care about you.”
“I care about you, too. So much.”
Reaching up again, the relief I see in her eyes assures me I’ve done the right thing. The hurt I saw earlier broke me. But this? This beautiful, happy woman in my arms? This is right. This is what I am fighting for. And fight I will.
She plants her lips on mine and I know I’m home.
This time when we part, I share my whole heart. “I want you to be a part of my life. A big part. I want you to warm the bed with me. I want you to be my someone. I want you to be mine.”
“I’m all yours.”
This time my smile grows and I grab her into a tight embrace. “I love you, Reese,” I say as if I can’t keep my feelings bottled up any longer.
As if the sun couldn’t shine any brighter, her smile blooms. “I love you, Danny Weston.”
CHAPTER 33
~Reese~
SITTING AT A table in the back of a bistro n
ext to the hotel, I can’t take my eyes off him—my handsome “someone.” Danny and I are on our second bottle of a recommended French red when we hear, “There they are.”
When we look toward the entrance there’s a spectacular commotion of purple. “Vinnie,” I say, standing up and running into his arms. “You’re here.”
“I am,” he says, whispering in my ear. “How are you, Candy girl?”
I take his hand and look him in the eyes. “Ridiculously happy.”
“Happy looks great on you.” We walk back to the table. Danny stands, and Vinnie asks, “How’s our favorite model?”
Danny reaches out to shake hands but Vinnie makes a face and they hug. Danny rolls his eyes as Vinnie embraces him around the middle, but he laughs. “It’s good to see you too.” When Danny tries to break the embrace, Vinnie remains latched on. “Okay. Okay. Back it up there.”
We laugh together. It’s light and carefree, feeling so good. After we sit, Danny asks, “What brings you to Paris?”
“I came to check on my favorite dynamic duo.” He picks up my wine and drinks half before speaking. “I also wanted to check on my store here and to see how the shoot went. It’s good to check on an investment.” Looking at me, he asks, “How did it go?”
“Better than we could envision.”
“I received some preview shots. They are better than we planned. I’m thinking Vogue and Elle for the New York and Paris shots. GQ for the Marfa photos. Thoughts?”
“I think they’re perfect for those magazines. I was also thinking a collage that moves for the commercial. Bryker said he took enough to make that happen.”
“Interesting. I’d like to see that.” He turns to Danny. “How do you feel it went?”
“The locations were amazing. The clothes were incredible. I loved being a part of it.”
He takes a sliver of Brie from the tray in front of us, and as he wiggles it back and forth, he says, “Let’s be frank here. I heard about the breach of contract. I’m here. How can I help?”
Danny says, “I don’t think there’s anything you can do. Thank you though.”
“What are you going to do?” He pops the Brie in his mouth.