by T V Hartwell
Jake smirked. “Well, you can open the windows and enjoy as much of that moist air as you’d like sleeping in your own bedroom.”
“Aaah, man. You’re kicking me out already?” Kirby asked playfully, not picking up on Jake’s matter-of-fact candor. “What did I do? What, am I losing my swag? Did my moves turn you off last night?”
Kirby’s playful demeanor began to change as Jake stoically finished the last couple of bites of his food, not looking back at him.
“What’s wrong?” Kirby asked with a furrowed brow, now looking curious and concerned.
“Kirby, to be honest, I’m really not feeling like hooking up and sleeping together. I’ve got a lot on my mind right now. I just broke up with my fiancée for God’s sake and you’re like all over me. Give me some space.”
Kirby looked at Jake stunned, having not expected to be spoken to with such reproach. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything.”
Jake sighed as he stared blankly down at the tabletop. “I feel like I’ve just had my life ripped away from me. I never imagined in a million years that things would’ve turned out this way. I’m supposed to be on a yacht in the Mediterranean right now, on my honeymoon, and I’m sitting here with you.”
Taken aback, Kirby stared at Jake in silence, he’d had no idea Jake felt that way. He also took exception to Jake’s use of the term “hooking up.” He was making love to Jake, but now wasn’t the time to argue the point, he thought.
“I just need you to give me some space to breathe a little. Breaking up with Amanda was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do and I’m really not feeling good about myself right now. I’m not even sure it was the right thing to do. I felt pressured and probably acted a little too quickly in hindsight. I think I should have investigated things a little more.”
“What do you mean? What are you talking about?” Kirby asked, feeling confused.
“I really can’t tell you very much, but a lot went down before we left for Vegas and after I got back,” Jake said, shifting in his seat and then folding his arms across his chest, appearing tense.
“So what happened?”
“I was asked to call things off.”
“Asked to call things off? By who?”
“Rick. Amanda’s dad. He and my boss, who also pressured me, told me that Amanda has a life-threatening illness and that it would be harmful to her and possibly to both of us if we got married.”
Kirby jerked his head back and looked at Jake sideways. “What kind of illness?” he asked, incredulous.
Hesitant, Jake thought for a few seconds before answering. “I . . . was . . .”
Growing anxious and impatient to know, Kirby cut Jake off before he could form his response. “You know what it is, don’t you? What illness could be so serious to make them ask you to do that? I mean, does she have AIDS or something?”
“No, it’s not AIDS, nothing like that. It’s something else. They spoke to me in confidence, so I really can’t reveal what it is. Only her family knows about it and they don’t want anyone else to know. It’s pretty serious, but I’m having a hard time comprehending how it could be. There were never . . . any signs. Nothing ever appeared to be wrong.”
“I don’t understand. Why would your boss and Amanda’s father be talking to you about this? I mean, did you tell Amanda they spoke to you? If she’s sick, wouldn’t she tell you herself?”
“She never told me. They said she’s in denial and asked me not to say anything to her because it would make things worse.”
“What?”
“Dude, I know it sounds crazy. I was as dumbfounded as you are right now when they told me all of this. I’m still dumbfounded.”
“So didn’t speak to Amanda about this? You just took their word? And why the hell was your boss in on it?”
“Mike, my boss, and Rick know each other. Rick’s a longtime client of our firm and I guess he wanted a lawyer involved because of the seriousness of the situation. But, no, I didn’t tell Amanda that they spoke to me or that I knew about her condition. If I told you what the condition was, you’d understand and it would make a little more sense—”
“But I don’t understand why you would . . . just take their word and not confront Amanda. You know, just to confirm what they said.”
“Dude, they offered me money to walk away without confronting Amanda.”
Kirby’s mouth flew open as he raised his eye brows in astonishment and curiosity. “How much?”
“Kirby, you really can’t say anything about this. Ever. To anyone. I shouldn’t even be talking to you about it. Promise me, you will never utter a word about any of this.”
“Oh my God, man, of course,” Kirby blurted, barely able to contain his bewilderment. “You have my word. This is so unbelievable. I can’t believe they offered you money. Seriously, how much are we talking?”
“Millions, dude.”
Kirby’s eyes popped open wide. “As in—”
“As in five million.”
“Holy shit! No fucking way—”
“And I could have asked for more.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“So you took the five million?”
“No, I didn’t take anything.”
“You didn’t take anything?” Kirby said, raising his voice in shock and disbelief.
“No,” Jake said firmly, looking away, shaking his head and then turning back to look at Kirby. “I don’t want Rick’s money. Despite what some people might’ve thought, my relationship with Amanda was never about her and her family’s money. I love Amanda, Kirby. I would do anything for her. When Mike first spoke to me, I didn’t believe it and I refused to break things off. I told him that I would marry Amanda no matter what and that I was committed to being with her in sickness and in health. But then when Rick and Mike spoke with me together, a second time, they gave me more information and told me what the actual condition was. I was in disbelief, because, as I said before, there weren’t any signs. But they were so convincing. Still, I tried to tell them that I could talk to Amanda and convince her to get the help she needs, but they were so emphatic that it wouldn’t work and that it could make things worse for her. And then when Rick told me how much he was willing to pay me to call off the wedding and break up with her, I concluded that the whole thing was legitimate and that they wouldn’t have been willing to pay me that kind of money if it wasn’t. But I told them right then and there that no amount of money would be enough to compensate me for losing Amanda. She is priceless to me, Kirby. If walking away is what needed to be done to save her, then I was willing to do it. I wasn’t going to take money to do what’s right. I don’t need to be paid off. Fuck that. I’d never do that.”
“Wow,” Kirby said, short of speechless at this revelation.
“I admit though, bro, I’m having second thoughts about the whole situation.”
“So what did you say to Amanda when you broke up with her?”
“I just BS’d my way through it. To be honest, I don’t even remember what I said. I just remember the look on her face. I can’t believe I did it. That I hurt her like that,” Jake said as he placed his elbows on the tabletop and raised his hands to his eyes to rub away the tears that were beginning to form.
“But it sounds like you did it for the right reasons. And you didn’t take the money. Wow. My level of respect for you has just increased exponentially, beyond measure. Really. I’m in awe of you right now. That has to be one of the greatest acts of chivalry I’ve ever heard of. I don’t know many people, probably don’t know anyone, who would’ve walked away like you did and passed up on that kind of dough . . . and from Rick Climent of all people.”
“I don’t know, Kirby. I just feel something’s not right, and that I might’ve acted too hastily. I keep seeing Amanda’s face. I can’t get that look out of my mind. She knew I was lying when I told her I’d fallen outta love with her or whatever bullshit that came out of my mouth,�
�� Jake said feeling disgusted at himself.
“So, what are you going to do?”
Jake sighed and paused for a few moments before he answered Kirby. “I want to see her. When we get back, I think I’m going to try to see her again. I need to feel certain that I did the right thing. That I really did what’s best for her, because right now, my gut’s telling me that it wasn’t.”
* * *
Chapter Seven
The week after meeting with her parents for dinner, Amanda had not yet made up her mind about what to do with her baby. Should she tell Jake? Should she confide in her sister or a close friend like Lucy? Should she consider adoption? In Amanda’s mind, anything other than abortion seemed easier to consider and digest. Although firmly pro-choice, it was hard for Amanda to fathom aborting her own baby. Especially the baby she’d dreamed of having someday with Jake. Her father was right when he told her that he knew it wasn’t her intention to have a baby and start a family now. Indeed she had a lot going on. After the wedding she had planned to turn her focus and attention to Novel full-time—a professional endeavor that would’ve required her to travel frequently to New York since that’s where Lucy and their other business partners were mostly based. She and Jake had even discussed the possibility of buying their own pied-à-terre in Manhattan so she’d have a place to crash other than a hotel or her parents’ sprawling apartment overlooking Central Park in a stuffy co-op on the Upper East Side. But life has a way of interrupting well-thought-out plans and now she had someone else’s future to contemplate and consider, her unborn child’s.
After locking herself in her condo for more than two weeks, Amanda slowly began to feel well enough to reconnect with the outside world. Although her heart was still broken, it was time for her to step out, she’d concluded. She needed to laugh and smile again and there was nobody better able to help her do that than Charlie McCormack.
Charlie was among those who had persistently tried to touch base with Amanda after her devastating breakup and wedding cancellation. With Lucy now back in New York and preoccupied with the details of her mother’s fall fashion show, Amanda reached out to Charlie. Delighted to hear from her, Charlie insisted he’d pick her up and treat her to dinner at her current favorite restaurant, The Bazaar at the SLS Hotel.
“Hi, Charlieee,” Amanda said smiling, feeling happy and relieved to see him.
“Hello, my love,” Charlie said to Amanda as she stepped into his convertible. He reached over to embrace her warmly and to kiss her from cheek to cheek. “I’m so glad to see you. How are you?”
“I’m okay. I’m doing okay,” she said as if trying to convince herself that were entirely true.
“Well, you look fabulous . . . as you always do,” he said as he sped off from her building’s porte cochere.
“What have you been doing, honey? Have you been anywhere or have you been all cocooned up in your condo all this time? I’ve been worried sick about you along with many other people. Your mother tried to assure me you were fine, but I know you two aren’t besties so I wasn’t entirely convinced.”
Amanda giggled. “Well, that’s quite the understatement. My mother and I are definitely not besties. You’re so funny.”
“Well, what would you expect me to say?” Charlie asked flamboyantly. “That I don’t trust the bitch or anything she has to say concerning you?”
Amanda laughed out loud. “Yeah, that’s more like it. That’s what I’d expect to you to say, actually.”
“Okay. She’s a bitch, and I don’t think she likes me very much. And she almost seemed annoyed that I called to ask about you. She’s like, ‘Oh, she’ll survive. Give her a little time.’ Don’t call us, we call you sort of attitude. I’m like whatever, bitch. Fuck that. You don’t have to be so rude. Of course, I didn’t say that, but wanted to.”
Amanda reached over and squeezed his arm. “I’m glad you kept calling and texting me, babe. I really appreciate it. I feel so lucky to have you as my friend. And thanks for taking me to dinner. This is so sweet of you to do.”
“Of course. Anytime. You know I’m here for you, honey. I love you. I can’t believe Jake did this to you. This whole ordeal just hurts my heart. I’m so beside myself right now. There’s something I have to tell you, but I’ll wait until we get to the restaurant and we’re both sufficiently libated.”
“Uh-oh. I don’t like the sound of that. What’s it about?”
“About you and Jake. Well, mostly Jake.”
“What?” Amanda said as she popped her head up from the headrest, curious.
“Honey, seriously. Let’s wait until we get to the restaurant.”
***
One of the hottest new restaurants in town, chef José Andrés’ The Bazaar was buzzing and packed. Designed by noted architect Philippe Starck, the space featured a mélange of art deco and modern dining and lounge furnishings along with gaudy, glittering light fixtures that combined with displays of luxury retail items and art scattered about. The food and drink were as decadent as the ambience; Charlie and Amanda settled in at a cozy spot near the bar for a pre-dinner drink and immediately ordered cotton candy mojitos.
“So we know what’s happening with my love life,” Amanda said, trying to direct attention away from herself. “What about you? Has prince charming found you yet?”
Charlie gave her a roll of the eyes. “No. Unfortunately, I’m still kissing a lot of frogs who turn into vampires instead of princes. Sometimes I think I should go back to Dallas. The guys here are so into hooking up and always on the hunt for something ‘better,’” Charlie said gesturing quotation marks with his fingers. “But, hey, I admit, I’m probably like that too sometimes. I’m as guilty as anyone, always looking for the next hottie on Grindr.”
Amanda giggled and shook her head, always amused at the pervasive use of dating apps by gay men for random hookups with people they typically don’t see again afterward. “How many guys have you met that way?”
“Oh, quite a few.”
“And you slept with all of them?”
“Oh, dear. No! You very well know I have a discerning taste in men,” Charlie said with an air of propriety and typical Charlie-like haughtiness. “I have standards, honey. I don’t let just anyone up in this fine china cabinet,” he said patting and flipping his perfectly coiffed head of hair, causing Amanda to giggle even more.
“So how many of the ones you’ve met? Seriously. I’m curious to know. This is so interesting,” she said with mirth on her face as she leaned in with both her elbows on the table, raising her wrists to her chin, giving Charlie her undivided attention.
Charlie feigned a choke as he took a long sip of his water, swallowed hard, and gave her a mischievous glare. “A lady never tells,” he said finally, batting his eyelids playfully.
Amanda snickered at her friend’s bashfulness but continued to look at him with curiosity and utter fascination.
“It’s just the way things are here. It’s the culture. And you kind of get sucked into it, I guess. It’s getting a little old though. I should go back to Texas and find me one of those cute, gay, Republican boys who likes to go to church.”
Amanda smirked dismissively as she took a sip of her drink as if to doubt the existence of the type.
“I’m not kidding. Texas, especially Dallas, is full of flag waving, God fearing, churchgoing homosexuals. And you know what’s funny about it? They’re the freakiest, sex crazed boys you’d ever want to meet. We call ’em the kneelers.”
“Kneelers?”
“Uh-huh. They kneel and pray to Jesus on Sunday morning and then they kneel and suck cock on Sunday night.”
Amanda gagged as she attempted to hold down the drink she had just sipped while laughing out loud. “Oh my God, you’re so bad,” she said, grabbing her napkin to wipe her mouth. “That’s hilarious. Although I’m sure there are a lot of straight girls who could be called kneelers too.”
“Oh, no doubt. Being a kneeler is what many churchgoing boys and girls alike eq
ually endeavor to be,” Charlie said with a wink and devious grin.
“Well, I can’t see you going back to Texas nor can I imagine you going to church with a Republican. It doesn’t seem like your thing.”
“It’s not,” Charlie said matter-of-factly before quickly sipping his drink. “And, no, I’m not going back to Texas. Not unless you come with. My dear mother would be so thrilled. You know how much she loves you. Although she loves her baby boy, I think she secretly wishes I were straight just so that you could be her daughter-in-law.”
“Awww . . . she’s so sweet. Vickie would be such a fun mother-in-law. Well, at least there’s your brother—”
“Oh please, she hates his girlfriend, but that’s a whole other story. Anyhoo, I was going to say, they’d love you in Dallas, with your class and sense of style. And you’re gorgeous. They’d be all over you down there.”
“Hmmm . . . how are the men in Texas? I mean the straight ones, of course.”
“Oh, there are a few rich hotties in the Big D I could introduce you to. They’re all mostly oil barons, like me,” he said smugly.
“Interesting. Well, now that I’m damaged goods here, maybe I should consider moving to another city,” Amanda said dolefully, looking down and stirring her drink. “I’ve become a laughingstock around here.”
“Oh, honey. How could you say such a thing? That’s completely untrue.”
“I’ve been reading things on the Internet, Charlie. ‘Billion dollar bride gets stood up at the altar,’ yada, yada—”
“That fucking pisses me off. If anyone’s going to be damaged goods it will be Jake. Especially after the truth gets out about that—”
Charlie stopped himself before completing his sentence, not feeling the time was quite right to reveal to Amanda what he knew. Plus, he was saved by the waiter who’d just returned to ask if they wanted another drink. Amanda passed, having barely touched her first drink, remembering after the fact that babies and drinking don’t mix. However, after Charlie ordered a second round, she didn’t miss a beat.