“Ha, ha.”
He shifted in his seat and leaned closer to her. “So as you can see, I’ve thought of everything.”
“Not everything.” Jenna gazed at the table.
“Jen, Jenna. Look at me.”
Jenna forced her gaze off her plate and onto Trevor.
“That’s better.” Trevor brushed a stray hair away from her face.
His touch made her dizzy.
His hand lingered. “Just tell me, Jen. Whatever it is. In case you didn’t notice, I just went all out back there. I told you how I feel about you, and nothing will change that. Nothing.”
Jenna swallowed hard, gathering her courage. “Trevor, I don’t know how to begin.”
“Just tell me.”
“My mother blamed me for having to leave the city. If I had never been born, maybe my dad would have had an acting career, and she could have stayed. I owe her.” Jenna leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. “What you don’t know is, like you, I support my sister. Not to the extent you do but I send my mother and my sister money every chance I can. I pay the salary for an extra employee, someone who does the job my mother thinks I should be doing. My plan is to keep my sister in school and not working at the laundry my mother owns.” She looked up at Trevor. “She—my sister, Olivia—she’s really incredibly smart. Wants to be a scientist. I want her to go to the best school she can.”
Trevor nodded.
Jenna sighed. “I’m an egg donor, Trevor.”
“A what?”
“I’m scheduled to donate my eggs to an infertile couple so they can make a baby.”
“Oh. I—uh…” Trevor sat back.
“Weren’t expecting that one, right?”
“I’m not quite sure I understand. When are you scheduled?”
“My retrieval is right after the show closes. That’s why I was on the pill, to regulate my cycle. I already started the hormones, which is why my body is changing. I saw you staring at my breasts in the car tonight.”
“Jenna, I think this happens all the time, right? I’m not sure I understand why you think this would keep us apart.”
“Because that’s only half of it. What Luis and Loretta know, it’s only part of it. The truth is, I’ve already donated. Twice. This would be my third time.” She swallowed hard.
“Third?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “That means there is already the potential that what could have been two of my children are right now either being born, or growing inside the belly of a very different mommy.” Jenna tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, composing herself. “I was okay with it when I knew I’d never be able to give my child what someone else could: riding lessons or theatre classes or family dates on Friday nights at paint-your-own-pottery places. But if I were with you—” She shook her head. “I don’t care what those psychologists try to tell me every freaking time. It is like giving up a child for adoption.”
Trevor shifted in his seat.
“I don’t expect you to know what to say. I don’t know what to say. Jesus.” She put her head in her hand and pressed her cool palm against her forehead. “Gotta love science, right?”
“Jenna—”
“So Trevor, if I were ever to someday get married and have a child, and that child wanted to marry someone here in the city, they’d better be damned sure to get a DNA test so they’re not marrying their half-sibling.” Slumping, she leaned back in her seat. “It gets even better, since I don’t want to leave New York and my eggs have been donated here, well, the chances go way up that my teenager could date his sibling. One hell of a prom night, right? With me screaming at my son not to do anything romantic, because unknowingly, he could be dating his sister…?” She shuddered, finally making eye contact with him. “Now do you understand? Do you see now why I can’t have a relationship that could ever become more? Now do you see that if I had a relationship with someone as wonderful as you, every day of my life I would regret having given away what could have been our child…? It sucks and I hate it.” Jenna drew in a large gulp of air. “Now do you see why there can never be an ‘us?’ ”
“I…”
The look in his eyes told her what she needed to know. He dropped his head.
“I told you, you didn’t want to know this.” Jenna pushed her chair back from the table and made her way to the door.
Dropping money onto the table, Trevor ran after her. “Jenna!”
****
It was too late. The cold New York air smacked against him as she hailed a passing cab and climbed inside. Trevor watched in disbelief as the only woman he ever loved sped away.
Chapter Nineteen
Of course she shouldn’t drink. Drinking was the absolute last thing she should do, but it was also the only thing that made any sense right now. As Jenna sat in the cab, her cell rang, over and over. Her stomach ached. She hated ignoring his calls but she had nothing left to say to Trevor. He was a great guy, and he deserved a woman who could give him the life he wanted, a woman who wasn’t answering to a mother and a ghost.
The damned cell rang again, so she clicked it off, jumping out of the cab at a random address somewhere far from Trevor’s place and hers. Stumbling up the street, Jenna entered the first noisy bar she could find, hoping the sound of bad karaoke would drown out her sadness.
The place was dark and dingy, with dark wood paneling on the walls and a low tin ceiling. Dart boards covered the walls. One long bar made of wood sat near the opposite wall. People singing karaoke stood on a low rickety-looking platform stage.
Jenna maneuvered through the crowd, throwing herself against the bar. She ordered a shot of bourbon, and after flashing her ID, ordered another. She dropped her clutch onto the bar and quickly downed the shots. Staring at the empty glasses, she yanked her arm away from a man at her side, whose arm touched hers.
“What are you drinking?”
Jenna didn’t bother to respond. Why would she? She’d just walked away from Trevor Hughes, the sexiest, strongest, smartest, most gorgeous man on the planet.
“Bitch.” The man stormed off.
Jenna pulled herself onto a high bar stool, balancing on the round, brown leather seat as she ordered and drank another and another, until finally, the room grew fuzzy. With her stomach burning, she pushed back from the bar. Her gaze settled on the blurry stage where a band began warming up as even more bad karaoke assaulted her ears. Finally, she had a lucid thought: she had just done the stupidest thing any woman in New York City could do; she was all alone and out of control.
Panic shot through Jenna, sobering her up the tiniest bit, and she glanced around the room. Bodies, smashed up against each other, swayed to an off-key karaoke love ballad. All of these lonely souls, just trying to make a connection. Jenna raised her hand, signaling for the bartender. She drowned her fear in another shot. Would this be her, a lonely soul with no hope for a life?
There was only one answer: drink more. Jenna ordered another round, and by her sixth—seventh?—shot of bourbon, standing was a challenge. She clung to the bar, trying to steady herself then gestured for the bartender who made his way over.
“No way.” The bartender shook his head. “You’re cut off, kid.”
Giant tears gathered in Jenna’s eyes before spilling down her cheeks. She threw her arms onto the bar, and ignoring the odor of stagnant water and stale beer, she placed her sweaty forehead against the cold wood. While the music pounded through her head, she sobbed.
“Hey, kid.” The bartender was back. “You’re all dressed up. You alone?”
Jenna nodded without lifting her head. “Yes.” She finally made unsteady eye contact and banged a fist against the bar. “Ow.” Even her moan was pathetic. She shook the pain away. “Very alone.”
“Look, we’ve all been there, kid. A broken heart sucks.”
“Yes,” Jenna whispered, desperately wanting another drink. “So how ’bout another?”
“No way.” The bartender wiped the bar in f
ront of her.
Jenna nodded, straightening herself up. She slid off the stool and tried to stand, tottering. She fell against a man standing next to her, bracing herself as she bumped against his arm. He helped her upright before turning back to his date.
The bartender crossed his arms. “I can’t let you leave like this. Who can I call?”
“No one.” Jenna shook her hands and breathed deeply, trying to regain composure. She swiveled her head to the door and the room spun. Damn, that door was so, so far away. Hoisting up her fitted lace dress, she jumped onto the stool again, as the floor rose up. She balanced herself, just in time.
The bartender handed a beer to a customer and said to her, “There’s got to be someone.”
“I’m alone. Always have been and always will be.” A tear fell again. What was that expression about happy drunks? It sure wasn’t her. The more alcohol she consumed, the more miserable she was.
The bartender grabbed her clutch and pulled out the cell. Before Jenna could make sense of what he was doing, he pushed a button and gave the bar’s address.
“Oh, crap.” Jenna put her head down again.
“Yeah, I called your, ‘In Case of Emergency’ number. Hold on.” The bartender dashed off then returned, holding a mug of black coffee. “Here.”
“Black?” Jenna turned up her nose, the smell making her nauseated.
“Drink it, kid. Ever been drunk before?”
“Once.” Jenna nodded as her stomach flipped. “But not like this.”
“Fun, huh?”
“No…”
“No. And the guy I just called, he didn’t sound very happy to find you’re drunk and alone at a bar.”
“Crap.” Jenna blew on the coffee and sipped. It was so bitter she scrunched up her face. How did Trevor drink this?
The bartender popped open beer tops and handed the beers across the bar. “Most people who come in here to get drunk because they’re heartbroken; no one cares enough about them to be mad at them.”
“Lucky me.” Jenna moaned into her sleeve.
“Yeah, lucky you. I’d give up my studio in Brooklyn for a house in Jersey if it meant someone cared that much about me.”
Jenna made unsteady eye contact with the bartender, his words resonating through her fuzzy brain. Before she could make sense of them, someone shoved the karaoke mic into her hand. The mic was cold, but her body began to warm as she swayed along with the intro of a slow dirge, a classic rock song she knew and loved.
Holding her breath, Jenna hopped off the barstool, landing hard on her feet. She giggled, staggering her way to the stage, a snickering crowd parting as she wobbled past. Missing the first step, Jenna finally made it up onto the riser as the intro ended, and the music played. Still swaying, she began to sing, clearly and in a higher key than the song, but in perfect pitch. After a few more measures the band, which had been warming up, joined her, the drummer first and then the guitar players. They played along, their heads bobbing with the music. The saxophone player was the last to join.
By the time Jenna reached the third verse, Trevor had walked in. Her heart thumped, sweat dripping down her back. Tears filled her eyes as he gazed at her, but still, she kept singing. He made his way to the base of the stage, only a few feet away from her. Almost all of the women in the bar turned to him, some obviously recognizing him, others simply in awe of this gorgeous man in a tux who just walked into a dive bar. Woman after woman pushed to stand closer to him, but Trevor’s gaze never swayed.
Jenna finished her song and the crowd applauded, thickening around the stage as they waited for the band. The band members went to shake her hand, but she just stood there, completely still, lost and confused…staring at Trevor. Someone squeezed her waist. She wheeled around to see the sax player by her side, his arm draped around her.
Jenna gasped as he pulled her closer, and she stumbled into him. “No.” She pulled away from him but he held tight. He leaned down, his breath reeking of cigarettes, hot on her face. “I said, no.” Jenna fought to wedge her hands between them, but before she could pull away, Trevor was there. He pushed the sax player off Jenna, and she threw her arms around Trevor’s neck. “Trevor…” she whispered softly.
****
Thank God she was okay. Thank God he arrived when he did. Trevor wrapped his arms around Jenna’s tiny waist and held her as the crowd disappeared around them. But that sax player…Trevor shook his head, exhaling loudly. He turned to the musician. “Are we going to have a problem?”
The sax player put up his hand. “No, man.” He skulked away.
God damn it. Trevor breathed deeply again, fighting to keep his anger in check. That sax player was an asshole but he needed to focus on Jenna, not some random guy at a bar. Keeping his arm tight around her middle, he led her to the bar to settle up. “What does she owe you?” he said through clenched teeth.
“It’s cool.” The bartender nodded to Trevor. “She’s pretty heartbroken and I think it’s the first time she’s ever been this drunk.”
“No, it’s not cool.” Trevor’s chest heaved in anger. “She stood at your bar and you let her get drunk. Here.” He dropped a hundred dollar bill on the counter. “I have to think that will cover anything she had to drink. It couldn’t take much to get her drunk.”
“You don’t have to be such an asshole, man. I didn’t have to call you.” The bartender picked up the money. Muttering, he wandered off.
Trevor sighed heavily, clamping his free hand to the back of his neck. Damn it. The man was right. “Hey.” Trevor signaled for the bartender who approached. “I appreciate you calling me. Really.” Trevor dug into his pocket and pulled out another hundred. He handed it to the bartender.
“Thanks, man.” The bartender pocketed the hundred. “I see a lot of drunks. But she’s just a kid. Thinks she’s all alone. I’m glad you came for her.”
Trevor looked down at Jenna, her hair fallen loose, her hands gripping his arm, and he knew right then and there, no matter how infuriated he was with her, he never wanted her to be alone, ever again. But that may not be his decision to make. He wrapped his arm around her waist and led Jenna out of the bar.
Outside, he stood her against the wall. It wouldn’t take long for the cold New York air to sober her up. Why would she do this? Damn it, damn it, damn it. Anger coursed through his veins, bubbling up inside him. He needed to release it somewhere, somehow, but she could never withstand the battery of words he would unleash to express the fury he felt.
Trevor paced back and forth, running his hand through his hair, trying to calm down. He needed to get hold of himself. He counted to one hundred forward and backward. He sucked in a deep breath and another, fighting for rational thought. How dare she put herself in this much danger? What if he wasn’t able to get there in time? What if someone like that sax player had taken advantage of the situation and hurt her?
“Ugh.” Trevor wheeled around and faced her. The thought of something bad happening to her made his gut ache. He wanted her home—at his place—where he could watch out for her and protect her. He contemplated locking her away and never letting her go. Her actions were those of a child. Maybe that’s what she needed, to be treated like one. Damn it. He wasn’t thinking clearly. “One one thousand, two one thousand…” He paced, fighting against the cold Manhattan wind, as he counted again. He took another deep breath, cooling his temper, finally able to approach her.
She stood exactly where he had put her, her teeth chattering, her nose red. Her eyes, like two bright shining spotlights, followed his every move. Trevor’s shoulders slumped and his tight muscles unclenched slightly. There was no way he could stay mad at her, but still, that didn’t change the fact her actions had been childish and dangerous. He would tell her all of this when they talked everything out but it would be later, not while she was freezing on a New York City street corner.
He inhaled sharply, the cold biting his lungs. Looking deep into Jenna’s glassy eyes, he searched for the answer—woul
d there be a later? “Come on.” Trevor took Jenna by the hand and led her to his limo.
****
Jenna woke up the next morning achy and confused. She sat up quickly, grabbing the soft, familiar bed sheet and pulling it up, tucked it around her. She looked down to see she was wearing one of her t-shirts. Rubbing her blurry eyes, she struggled to make out her surroundings. Dirty laundry pile, magazines on the floor, sink filled with dishes. She was home, in her apartment, without him. Jenna’s face fell, and she swallowed hard, pulling her knees up to her body. She was alone.
“Trevor?” she called tentatively but there was no answer. He wasn’t there. He had taken her home and left. She reached out and found her cell phone on the bottom of her bed. With shaking fingers, she called one of the few numbers programmed into the cell.
“Hey, this is Trevor, please leave me a message.”
Jenna cleared her throat. “Uh. Hi, Trevor. It’s…Jenna. Anyway, um, thank you for—well, all of it. I was hoping we could talk. But uh, well, thanks again. Bye.” Her throat aching, Jenna clicked off her phone and sat perfectly still on her bed, staring out her tiny window.
An hour passed, and Trevor still hadn’t called.
Jenna climbed out of bed, her body achy from her hard mattress. Then it dawned on her, he would never leave her alone with her door unlocked. She raced to her front door, but the locks were bolted. He must have used Luis and Loretta’s keys.
Jenna sighed and stumbled to her fridge, hoping for a miracle. Pulling open the door, she found one. There, in the otherwise bare refrigerator was a bottle of orange juice, a bag of bagels, and a tub of cream cheese.
“Huh.” Jenna stood up, a tiny smile cracking her glum expression. She grabbed the juice then noticed a bottle of painkillers on the table. Opening the bottle and dropping two tablets onto her palm, Jenna sighed. Swallowing back the pills, she rubbed an ache in her chest, the ache telling her she had really blown it this time.
To Be or Not To Be: The Actors Page 22