“Vince wanted me to call and make sure it’s what you really want.”
I can picture the sour look on her face. “I was offered a job by Travel X Channel. They want me to produce and host a show. Belmont doesn’t want me working with the executive producer.”
“Dexter Frampton?” she asks.
“Do you know him?”
“I’ve heard of him. He does goddamn good work. Dais, I’m on your side in whatever’s going on between you and Jack. If I were married to Jack, he would drive me bat-shit insane.”
“Yeah,” I say with a sigh.
“He said you called him entitled. You were dead-on. Vince is too.”
“Speaking of Vince, how are things between you now that you’ve struck out on your own?” I say in an effort to change the subject.
“We jumped off the rails for a moment but now we’re back on track. So you and Jack hung out last night?”
I clip my bra closed. “Sex has never been our issue.”
“Communication is your issue!”
I slip on my tank top. Belmont’s scent lingers on the fabric. “Maybe.” We both know she’s right. “He asked for a divorce. Well, he said he thinks he wants a divorce.”
“Oh, he was just pouting. Jack wouldn’t know what to do with himself without you. He’s barely made it this far,” she says nonchalantly.
Hearing her say that makes me feel better. “Oh, did you know that Charlie and Angel are engaged? They’re throwing an engagement party.”
“When?”
“On the twelfth of next month.”
“Checking my calendar…”
I narrow one eye suspiciously while I wait.
“Oh, right. Yes. I’ll be there. So will you, right?”
“I just don’t understand why they’re throwing a party. They were so anti-wedding.”
“People change, Dais.”
I shrug. “I guess so.”
“I just never thought Charlie would get a woman to say yes to marrying him, especially one of Angelina’s caliber,” Maggie says.
I chuckle as I check the room to make sure I’m not leaving anything. Maggie congratulates me on my new gig and assures me that taking the job is the right thing to do.
I finish getting all of my things into my luggage, call a cab to take me to the airport, and go downstairs to check-out. I was right. Belmont took care of my bill and asked that I not be disturbed. He’s always looking out for me.
After going through the shenanigans of getting a new flight, a boarding pass, clearing TSA, waiting around to board, and enduring the four-hour flight to L.A., I’m finally in Malibu. I’m back in Belmont’s and my house. I go to the kitchen and take a tuna steak out of the freezer so it can thaw before I head upstairs to change into a tank dress. Then I walk down the hallway to my office to work on travel plans. I start in Nice and Marseille.
I email some of my contacts in those areas to see if any local festivities are going on in the next two months. It’s amazing how fast they reply. Of course they all ask the standard, “How are you?” I lie and say fine. I accept my old friend Javar Les’s offer to be my companion since he speaks six different languages. I also email Maya to arrange lunch. She replies immediately and asks me to meet her tomorrow in front of Abbot’s Habit on Abbot Kinney.
Time flies. It’s pretty late, but I’m starving. I sauté the thawed tuna steak with onions and spinach and put it on a whole-grain bun. Being alone in the house was easier before my trip to Chicago. To keep my mind occupied, I work as I eat. Two hours later, I take a quick shower and crawl into bed. I take deep breaths and force myself to think of nothing. Eventually it works, and I fall asleep.
The worst part of living in L.A. is the traffic. The best part of living in L.A. is being a native, which means I know how to navigate my way around the tough spots. One p.m. approaches, and freeway traffic is atrocious. After creeping south on Pacific Coast Highway, I exit onto Lincoln, which is fairly light considering the time of day. Other than a few speeding idiots, my drive is stress free. I park on Electric Avenue and meet Maya on the corner of Abbot Kinney and California Street.
I see her sitting outside the coffee shop under the green awning, tapping out a message on her cell phone. I haven’t seen Maya since after we loss Joella. Belmont believes she’s one person I should leave in my past. But Maya is the only person in the world who gets me.
When we saw each other last, she pleaded her case. “You didn’t love Adrian, Dais,” she said. “You never did. He’s the one for me. I’m the one for him.” She was as dramatic as an aspiring actress would be.
However, I had been forced to admit that she was right. It was a relief to share my true feelings with someone.
“I knew you couldn’t carry on forever for Jack,” Maya said. “He’s one of those guys who has specific tastes, and you’re it. And that includes your goddamn issues. I bet you were miserable while you were pregnant.”
I sighed. Only Maya could comprehend the depths of my despair. I poured out a lot of what I had been keeping inside over my Humble Indian curry bowl at Café Gratitude on Larchmont. Before parting ways that night, we’d made a promise to work harder to maintain our friendship, no matter what crazy things Maya did to fracture it.
Maya looks up when I make it to the corner. She sets her cell phone on the table, pulls her long, dusty blond locks over one shoulder, and waves. I wave back. The light turns green, and she stands as I cross the street. I’ve never seen Maya in something so loose-fitting, but she’s seven month’s pregnant with her and Adrian’s first child.
“I know…” she says as we hug. “I look like a walrus, but you look hot as usual.”
“I don’t know about that. You look beautiful.”
“I try.” She links arms with me. “Let’s go somewhere not so Venicey.”
“But it’s all Venicey.” I chuckle.
“True.”
We head north past the small dress shops and art galleries. I tell her about my new job and my trip to Chicago.
“You’re going to be gone for a while?” she asks.
“Yes, but at least I’ll be on La Côte d'Azur for the majority of the time. It’ll give me the chance to put my life in perspective.”
“Your life is already in perspective. Here…” She opens the door to a restaurant.
A huge bar is situated in the middle of the restaurant with tables on the sides. The lunch hour is ending, so it’s not so crowded. As usual, Maya knows almost everyone who works here. The hostess compliments Maya on how beautiful she looks, and suddenly I’m struck by illumination. Maya is the male version of Belmont. She seems to know everyone in L.A., and she’s used to getting what she wants, even me as a best friend.
But she never questions whether or not I love her. She steals my boyfriend and never questions it. She flirts with men who are interested in me to make herself feel worthy and never questions it. She outs my then-boyfriend, now-husband as a male escort, and still, she never questions my affection for her. I say “I do” to Belmont in front of God, friends, and family, and he questions my affection for him.
We’re seated at a table where we can be seen but not heard. It’s the best seat in the house. The waitress pours spring water into our glasses and sets the carafe on the table. We order our obligatory salads. Hers is avocado kale, and mine is spring greens with sliced cherry tomatoes and ginger cherries.
Maya rubs her belly. “They only buy fruits and vegetables from local growers who don’t use pesticides. And the meats here are all organic, no antibiotics or hormones.”
I smile. “Motherhood suits you.”
“Who could’ve guessed? But I don’t want to talk about me. What’s going on with you and Jack?”
I sigh and slump my shoulders. “He said he wants a divorce.”
“Is that what you want?”
“No. I don’t know. If it’s what he wants, then what can I do?”
“You can try fighting for him. I mean, he’s Jack fucking Lord for goodness’ sake!�
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I roll my eyes. Sure, he’s at the top of the food chain, but he’s just a man. “I never believed love is something you should have to fight for.”
There’s a pinch of perplexity in her expression.
“Why are you looking at me that way?” I ask.
“You’re all fucked up when it comes to love. You have this opinion that love’s supposed to be easy, but that’s so not the case. The sticky shit can be love too, and if you’re stuck in shit, then you should try to fight your way out of it. Like, throw the shit out, not your love—just the shit.”
I fall silent. I’m not sure how much of what she said is true. “Yeah…” I sigh. “I love Belmont even though he doesn’t think so. I’m just tired of being agreeable. I hate living in that big house. You know me. I like the simpler things in life. The real things.”
“I know. Well, then stop being agreeable. Just be you.”
“I can’t help it. I change when I’m around him. I don’t even know how it happens. All I want to do is make him happy.”
Maya nods. I can see the wheels turning in her head. “Does he make you happy?”
I smirk. “I’m the happiest when he’s making love to me.”
“I bet. I’ve heard Jack Lord can fuck a girl in a million and one ways.”
My eyes expand, cautioning her to lower her voice. “Maya, come on. You’re talking about my husband.”
“Hey, that’s what I heard.”
“Well, it’s true, but what we have is more profound than that. We have a connection, and it doesn’t require us to be friends or even like each other to want to be together.”
“No, I get it,” she says.
I frown. “You do?”
“I do. He’s in your pores.”
I nod. She does get it. “But, hey, maybe I was meant to be alone.”
She blurts a laugh. “You’re too hot for that. You’d still be leading Adrian around by his stupid dick if I hadn’t convinced him that there’s more to a relationship than fucking you whenever you let him. You treated him like Pavlov treated those monkeys.”
“You mean dogs.”
“Monkeys, dogs, rats…”
I make a face. “I did not treat him like that. However, I will admit that I wasn’t the best girlfriend. Do you attend his silly wrap parties?”
“Every single one of them.” We share a laugh. “I also read his scripts and tell him everything he writes is brilliant.”
I sniff cynically. “Is it though?”
“As long as we’re married.”
I sigh. “I think everything Belmont does is brilliant. He landed on the Forbes list, and he’s still unstained by his past.”
“That’s because Jack only fucked women who could lay golden eggs.”
“Wow, that sounds… horrible.”
“It was brilliant.”
“Right now he’s working with someone named Stacy.”
Maya takes a moment to think. “Stacy Pruitt?”
“I don’t know her last name.”
“Hot? Dark hair? Desperate?”
“She’s definitely beautiful and has dark hair, but what do you mean by desperate?”
“She’s a bitch who doesn’t respect boundaries.”
“Kind of like you?”
“A hell of a lot like me. Actually, I heard she and Jack had a thing. Watch out for her.”
I close my eyes to bear the ache that crushes my heart. “He told me that they used to be together but he hasn’t made love to her since then.”
“And you believe him?”
“I do.”
“Okay, making love and fucking are two separate actions. Did he cover both of those? Because men, they’re tricky.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh my God…”
She shrugs. “All right, whatever. At least you can take solace in knowing that Jack isn’t the sort of guy who can’t control his dick. As you know, I’ve tried, and he didn’t want any part of me.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“Okay, I won’t. But what next?’
I shake my head. “He’s angry because he thinks I’m unburdened by Joella’s death.”
“Are you?”
I stare into Maya’s eyes. “The answer isn’t so simple. By the time I had her, I was ready to be a mother. I love her. I didn’t even get a chance to hold her. I’ll never get that chance, and I think that’s what hurts the most.”
“So you’re ready to be a mother?”
“I didn’t say that. I was ready to sacrifice all of my ambitions to be a good mother to Joella. I don’t know how happy that would’ve made me, but I was ready to make her happy.”
Maya takes a swig of her water. “Do you honestly think your daughter would’ve been happy if you weren’t happy? Kids can see right through their parents’ fucking masks. You know what I think?”
“What?”
“If it were just you and Joella against the world, then she would’ve been like an extension of you. But you have to think about Jack and what he’ll allow you to do. He’s like your fuckable daddy.”
“That’s disgusting,” I say.
“It’s true, and you know it. He’s your problem, but he’s a hot problem. You just have to figure out how to fix him. He’s so fucking worth it.”
“But shouldn’t I want everything we have? It’s the American dream right?”
“The American dream? There’s no such thing. I thought you knew that.”
I lean across the table and whisper, “I hate that my beautiful flower died, but…” I sigh. “I feel like I’ve been given a do-over. I don’t choose to become what I almost became.”
Our salads arrive, and the dense silence lingers. The waitress says she hopes we enjoy them and to let her know if we need anything else. She leaves us quickly because even she can feel the tension around our table.
“If I don’t want what Belmont is offering, what does that make me?” I ask Maya.
“It makes you, you. And let me tell you, Dais, if I were a guy, I’d move heaven and earth to fuck you whenever my dick got hard. Not to mention you’re just great company. Jack will change for you. All you have to do is mold him.” She points her fork at my salad. “Now eat.”
I snort a chuckle and pick up my fork. “I wish you could’ve seen my Joella. She was a beauty.” I narrow an eye. “But she looked like Charlie.”
She gasps. “The hot brother? Do you think he drugged you and fucked you and you had his kid instead?”
I laugh. “Only you would say something so preposterous.”
We spend the rest of the afternoon gossiping about mutual friends. Maya invites me to a clambake they’re throwing on Sunday near my house. It would be the first time Adrian and I have seen each other since our altercation on Martha’s Vineyard, so I tell her maybe. I’ll call her if I decide to go.
I sleep easy alone in our big house. On Friday night, I have dinner with Heloise, my stepdad, Joseph, and Daphne, my half sister, who’s home after graduating from Georgetown University this past weekend. She and I aren’t close, but we are cordial. It’s kind of sad that the last time I saw her was ten years ago. She used to be a brat, but now she’s a sophisticated, thoughtful young lady. She’s returning to Washington, DC, in a couple of weeks to pursue a career in government. The evening passes pleasantly.
Saturday goes by without any word from Belmont. On Sunday morning, I lay in bed with my phone in my hands. I’m ready to have that difficult conversation with him, but I’m not positive he’s ready to hear it. I sigh, sink my head deeper into my pillow, and call him. I’m antsy. On the fifth ring, I’m about to end the call when…
“Hello?” a woman says in a sultry voice.
I hesitate. “Sorry, I must have the wrong…” But I know this is the right number. “Is Belmont there?” I’m struggling to keep my breathing even.
“He’s in the shower.”
I end the call and tuck the phone under the other pillow as if hiding it will make what happened go away. I stare
at the ceiling. Did some woman with a bedroom voice really just answer Belmont’s phone? I close my eyes to restrain my tears. I’ve already cried too much.
A while later, I wake up to the muffled chime of my cell phone. I retrieve the device from under the pillow and check the name on the screen. “Hey, Maya.”
“This is the third time I’ve called you. What the hell’s going on?”
I tell her what happened before I fell asleep. “He never lets anyone answer that phone, not even me.”
“Are you coming to the clambake?”
“No. I’m too tired.”
Maya grunts. “When’s your flight?”
“My flight… I don’t know if I want to take the job anymore.”
“Goddamn it, Daisy. I’m coming over.”
“Don’t…”
She’s already ended the call.
CHAPTER THREE
Under a Rock
“I can force you to get out of that bed, or you can do it yourself,” Maya says.
I struggle to sit against the headboard, rubbing my eyes. “How did you get in here?”
She’s standing in the doorway of my bedroom, wearing a very short sundress that shows off her thin but toned legs. “Your maid let me in.”
“Oh.” I sigh. “Today’s Sunday.”
“Daisy, do not do this.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Fall the fuck apart! Like you did after I made that post on Facebook.”
I grimace. “Don’t remind me.”
Maya sits on the edge of my bed. She and the baby in her stomach get comfortable as she faces me. “I’m going to remind you that you wouldn’t have lost your shit if you’d taken at least one of my phone calls or answered the damn door. We could’ve talked it out.”
I set my weary eyes on her. “No need to rehash the past.”
“But I need to explain this because I never did.”
I sigh wearily and motion for her to continue.
“When we came to Martha’s Vineyard, Adrian was supposed to tell you the truth. He got derailed when he found out you were fucking Jack.”
“Don’t say ‘fucking Jack.’ It sounds so belittling.”
Know Her, Love Her: Daisy & Belmont, Book ONE (LOVE in the USA 4) Page 3