by S. L. Scott
Once I leave downtown, I drive faster, in a hurry to get nowhere fast, but out of here even faster. My phone keeps ringing, so I turn it off knowing who the calls are from without looking.
Not recognizing where I am, I realize that over the last month I’ve learned certain parts of Austin—downtown, South Congress, Lamar, and the Triangle. I don’t know this part, so I pull into a supermarket lot and park.
Just breathe. I remind myself over and over again.
Each one comes heavier than the last until they alter and turn into sobs. I lean my head against the steering wheel and let it come like the rain, an unstoppable force from within.
When I look up, my vision is blurred and I focus on breathing again, willing my thoughts to clear and imagine nothingness. It doesn’t work for long before the highlights reel from Luke and my relationship starts playing on a loop.
Soon all the parking spots around me are empty and I look at the time. With the rain and clouds, I hadn’t noticed the evening disappear and the night’s arrival. I was distracted by Jessica’s words cutting into the insecurities I still cling to. While I felt terrible for being with Lawrence, Luke was with many women. With that kind of track record can I ever be enough for him? Will I ever be “sexually expressive” enough? I don’t even know what that means, so how can I be that for him if he needs it? He says he wants to move forward, wants to leave the past in the past, but how will I do that if the past keeps finding us
I’ve been here for over an hour with my thoughts whirling in a history that will only ever be just that at best. I can’t live a life where the past is constantly haunting our present. The humiliation alone will do me in, much less the heartbreak. I can’t go there. Don’t think about how it aches in my chest. Don’t think about the dullness that follows, the one that became too familiar after the last time. Don’t think…
It’s past nine o’clock and I know I’m not returning to my hotel room. I can’t be that close to him. Not tonight. I’ll find a hotel in this area for tonight.
The rain has stopped and I get out and check my trunk, hoping I still have my gym bag back in there. A pair of yoga pants, a tank top, a hoodie, socks, and sneakers inside. Good. One full outfit I can wear to work tomorrow. That means I’m safe to stay away like I want, like I need.
I go inside the store and buy some essentials like a toothbrush and paste, a comb, and rubber bands for my hair. Yogurt and string cheese get tossed into my basket, along with Fiery Hot Cheetos, two large bottles of Smart Water, and some grapes. I’m careful as I walk around, paranoid that the sunglasses I’m wearing inside a grocery store at nine at night draw too much attention. Does it matter?
Nothing does right now.
I purchase my goods and go. I don’t have to drive far. The cashier pointed me in the direction of several hotels all situated next to each other. I have my pick.
After checking into a chain hotel, I set my gym bag down on the dresser and my food on the bed. Creature comforts are what I’m calling them.
I flop down on the bed and check my phone messages out of habit. I’ve missed a dozen calls from Luke, and one from Scalia. That’s the one I return.
I’m greeted with panic, “Where are you, Jane?”
“Hi.”
“Are you okay?”
“I will be. I just needed space.” Space that he’ll not invade. Space that is free from actresses and their bragging egos. “Just some breathing room.”
“Jane, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I reply, opening my string cheese. “He should have told me before now.”
“Yes, he should have, but maybe he didn’t feel he could.”
“He slept with an actress who spends more time headlining tabloids than movies these days. How that story never broke, I don’t know. But I’ve been naïve to think I could let his past go without it affecting me.”
“Where are you? Do you want some company? We can talk about it or talk about other things or whatever you want? I hate the thought of you alone.”
Lying back, I ask, “You’d do that for me?”
“Hell yeah, I would. I can even bring some booze.”
“I don’t want to get drunk. I don’t want to wallow, but I could use the company.”
“I’m on my way.”
* * *
SCALIA ARRIVES WELL after I devoured the cheese, yogurt, and half the grapes. She’s excited to see the Cheetos have made it this long untouched. After busting the bag open, we climb in bed, and turn on Jeopardy.
She answers a trivia question, “What is Sacramento?” and without skipping a beat says, “Jessica’s a cunt. Sorry for the harsh language but it’s true. She is.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me.” We toast with our Cheetos. “I couldn’t agree more. She was on a mission and she succeeded. I blame myself. I should have seen it coming long before now.”
“You are not to blame for her actions, so why do you say that?”
“She hasn’t exactly been subtle in her attention to Luke.”
“What is Legends of the Fall?”
When the correct answer is revealed on the game show, I say, “You’re really good at this game.”
“I’m good with useless trivia, which means I’m great at Trivial Pursuit. What are Ray-Ban sunglasses?”
I glance back at the TV. Yep, she nailed the sunglass question. Russian literature is the category and she turns to me, ignoring the answers. “Do you want to talk about Luke?”
“Kind of. Kind of not.” I feel shy, somewhat embarrassed about it all. She doesn’t say anything, so I do, “I feel betrayed. Do I have a right to be upset? What is The Brothers Karamazov?”
“Good grief, you know Russian literature?”
“I had to read it in college as a requirement.”
“Impressive. As for the betrayal, did he betray you? This was before you and he were even an item. You didn’t even know each other then, so think of it in that light. It was before he found someone he really cared about.”
“It’s not that simple.” Do I tell her about our history? My eyes stick to the game show. It’s easier than looking her in the questioning eyes. “What is Doctor Zhivago?”
“Damn, girl, you are owning this category. As for Luke, maybe you’re making it complicated when it’s not.”
“Whose side are you on anyway?” I grab the bag of Cheetos and get a handful, not even caring about my orange-coated fingers.
“Yours, but I should clarify that I think all of his sides are good.”
Well, she isn’t wrong about that. “Then what does that make me? What is War and Peace?”
“Dang, girl. Remind me never to go against you in trivia.”
“Lucky guesses,” I remark as if they really are. This category is doing my heart in, remembering how Luke used to read books and poems to me…
“That has got to be one of the most romantic things I’ve ever heard.’’
The touch of his fingers as they run up and down my arm sends goose bumps pebbling across my skin. “No normal man can compete with these fictional characters. I bet they even pee with the seat down.” He rolls his eyes.
I sit up and angle toward him. “You’re better than any fictional characters. Just sayin’.”
“I can read you this stuff, but I don’t think I can ever live up to the expectations that women have of guys now.”
Leaning forward on my knees, I kiss him. And then again. “You’re doing just fine.”
“Thanks for the vote.” He sits all the way up. “Do you want me to read more of the poetic doctor or can we go see the new Dwayne Johnson movie?”
“Hot yes, but there is nothing romantic about The Rock, the wrestler slash actor, so I might have to take back what I just said to you.”
“Might?”
“Depends on if you force me to the theater.”
“I’m forcing you, but after…” He kisses my collarbone and pulls the straps of my dress down over my shoulders.
“Af
ter?”
I’m scooped up and taken to the bedroom. The door is kicked closed, and I’m set down on the bed. “How about we skip the movie and the book tonight?”
“Don’t skip the book. It’s so romantic.”
“I can be romantic.”
“Yes,” I reply, sweeping his hair from in front of his eyes, “you can be. Tell me something romantic.”
Turning the ring around my finger once, he says, “One day I’m going to replace this with a forever ring.”
“Is this not a forever ring?”
Looking back at me, he eases my legs apart with his hand. Pressing with just enough pressure to entice, but not enough to satisfy, his usual smile is not visible. “This is the ring that reminds you I love you when I’m not around. This is the ring that shows every other fucker out there that you’re taken.” The pressure increases, and I wiggle, wanting more. “This is the ring I worked three summers and two Christmas breaks to show you that you already own my heart, but I’m willing to give you each and every minute of my days as well. I love you, Janie.”
“You’re so much swoonier than any hero in a book.”
“You know what else I am? In love.”
“I thought you were going to say horny.”
The zipper of my dress is sliding down. “That too. It’s a dangerous combination—in love and horny.”
“Dangerous for whom?”
Sitting up, he pulls the dress over my head. “For you. Get naked.”
“So demanding.”
“I think you like it.”
“Only in the bedroom.”
He smirks. “That works for me.”
…Scalia rolls her eyes. “Sure they are.”
“Sure they are what?” I ask, not hearing what she was talking about.
“Your guesses. I don’t believe for one minute that your answers to the Jeopardy questions are guesses.”
“Don’t you mean questions to the answers?”
She laughs, grabbing the bag back. With a mouthful of Cheetos, she says, “Yes, whatever. And for the record, holding a grudge just makes you a lonely girl at the end of the day.”
“If he’s lied about this—”
“He didn’t lie.”
“He didn’t tell me either.”
“Why would he? Did you tell him about every guy you’ve ever slept with? Name, social security number, mother’s maiden and all that?”
She has no idea that he knows about both men already considering he’s one-half of them especially. “I said it was complicated.”
The bag is discarded and she wipes her hands on a tissue. Rolling to face me, she says, “Jane, I don’t know you all that well, but I am pretty certain I saw love in his eyes when he looked at you, and love in your eyes when you looked at him. Do you think you should allow his past to determine your future? I know that sounds harsh, but we all carry baggage. That’s the nature of being humans.” She swings her legs off the bed. “Come on. We have an early call time. Maybe rest on this tonight. But no matter what you decide, you have five days left to figure it out. Then it’s poof, back to our own worlds again.” She gets out of bed and walks to the bathroom. I can hear her brushing her teeth and running water before she returns. “Let’s get some rest. It’s the best medicine for tonight. Good night.”
I know she’s right. “Good night.” I get up and go to the bathroom to wash my hands clean of the junk food too. When I brush my teeth, I look in the mirror and see pink eyes and puffy lids.
With watery eyes, I’m almost surprised I have any tears left to cry. Scalia makes many good points, but I’m still stumped why Luke would ensure Jessica was cast on this project. Ian told me Luke had made that decision and brought her in. There are other actresses that could have played Jude. Sure, he didn’t know we would rekindle things, but he slept with her. As we were getting closer, why not just confess that? What was his motivation? And why didn’t he tell me. What was his intention?
After turning off the TV, I lay my head on the pillow, but my mind is still spinning through a million questions, trying to figure out what Luke was thinking when he requested Jessica for the lead role on my movie. Is this revenge for hurting him? Does he hate me? Deep down, does he despise me so much that he would do this just to get back at me? I can’t believe that about Luke. No. He has never been someone to play games with people’s emotions. That was one of the things he never liked about Caroline or Ricky. He’s not a liar. But then why didn’t he tell me about Jessica. Was he trying to protect me or deceive me? He told me several times to stay away from her, but never why.
I think about the times we’ve spent together and how he seemed confident we shouldn’t hide ourselves away from others. He was happy if others knew about us. Scalia is partly correct though. It is Luke’s past, and not his present. But I’m still gutted. She deliberately blindsided me tonight, intentionally ensuring I was there when she told the room about her and Luke. I feel as though I’ve fallen into a mess smack dab in the middle of heartbreak. Again.
CHAPTER 24
~Luke~
STARING AT THE door has had absolutely no effect in bringing her back to me. It’s been six hours since Jane left. I’ve left close to two dozen messages and texts with no reply in return. The door that adjoins her room to mine is wide open, so I’ve waited in hers. For hours.
I lie back and smell the faintest of rose scents, her signature fragrance perfuming her pillow. I gave her the first bottle of the French perfume for her seventeenth birthday, and she’s worn it since. She’s received other bottles, different perfumes over the years, but they remained unused and were eventually thrown out.
The one I gave her was the only one she ever wanted. She told me she wanted only me, that I was it for her. Another one of the hints, the little things I wasn’t paying attention to because I was caught up in the big picture instead. It was a mistake, another one I can recognize to add to the list of many.
Lawrence was with that dark-haired woman and I thought he was cheating. I assumed he was a scumbag… well, he is an asshole, but it never occurred to me that he and Jane weren’t together.
She wasn’t wearing a ring any of the times I saw her.
She came over and we had dinner together. I never even asked why she was there. Something was going on, something heavy, and I didn’t ask in fear that she’d leave if I were too intrusive.
The ring. She was wearing the ring I gave her and I thought it was for kicks. It wasn’t. Jane was trying to tell me in the only terms she knew how—from her heart to mine. Actions. Why wasn’t I seeing? Why was I so blinded by the past that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me? How did I manage to fall in love with the only woman who doesn’t use a ton of words to express herself? She was showing me and I failed to notice.
I’m so fucking stupid.
Sitting up, I lean my elbows on my knees and drop my head down. I’m not sure I’m going to get any sleep, though I need it desperately. I pick up my phone and stare at the time. No missed calls. No new messages. I text one last time: I love you.
I set it down, and get up to take a piss when it buzzes across the wood surface. Grabbing the phone, it fumbles in my hands before I catch it and read the message.
Jane: I can’t get past this. I’m sorry.
Me: Please talk to me.
Jane: I can’t talk about it anymore. I just thought you should know where my head is at.
Me: Where’s your heart?
My eyes stay fixed on the screen for another hour, but she doesn’t reply.
* * *
THE SUN HITS the back of my lids, waking me up. I pull the pillow over my head and yawn, trying for more sleep. Then it hits me.
Shit.
I’m late.
Throwing the covers and pillow off me, I grab my phone. 9:16 a.m. I don’t remember falling asleep but I guess I did during my bleary-eyed exhaustion. I run into my room and grab a clean button-up from the hanger and jeans from the bed. I brush my teeth and try to tam
e my hair, but it’s unruly and I don’t have time to fuck with it. I’m out the door in five minutes. I run two blocks and up another to the building where we’re shooting today. When I arrive, Scalia and the assistant director are standing on the sidewalk out front.
“Hey, sorry. I overslept.”
Scalia vapes, and then says, “It’s crazy town in there.”
“What’s going on?” I ask.
The AD looks worried. “Jessica.”
Thank God he didn’t say Jane… Wait, what? “What’s going on with Jessica?”
“She’s refusing to work. Since she locked him out of the bedroom, Ian’s been on the phone with her manager all morning.”
Fuck.
I rush inside and up the stairs. When I barge in the front door, the first person I see is Jane. Her mouth opens to say something, but then she closes it and turns to Ian who is in the next chair.
What I want to do and what I should do wages war between my head and heart. Ian stands and comes toward me taking away my choices. He says, “Follow me.” He keeps the phone to his ear, and nods, then speaks into it, “We’ll talk to her again and see. I’ll call you back.” Shaking his head, he sighs. “She’s a fucking mess. You need to talk some sense into her.”
“I doubt I can do anything.”
“You’re the only one she’s asked for. Repeatedly. You need to get this project back on track or we’re wrapping today with an unfinished film. No actress. No movie.”
“I’ll talk to her.” I avoid looking in Jane’s direction. I can’t bear to see her pain. I need to save this movie for her. I feel like a traitor when I open the door and look inside. Jessica is sitting by the window, smoking. When the door is closed, I move to the corner of the bed. She’s well aware I’m here, but she continues her self-indulgent game by blowing smoke into the air. It slips through the open window just as she speaks, “I relate to the role I’m playing, I relate to Jude.”
“How so?” I keep the anger I feel toward her at bay, hoping to turn this nightmare around.
“She’s a dynamic character. The world is conspiring against her and the odds are insurmountable.”