She gives my arm a squeeze. “I’m sorry. Why did you and Sean argue? It wasn’t because of me, was it? I’m okay with you guys being together.”
“No, it wasn’t because of you. It was because he doesn’t believe in me. I’ve got enough people not believing in my abilities, thank you very much.” My voice cracks, completely ruining my attempt to sound indignant. “I hate feeling like this, like I can’t stop crying.” I knuckle away more tears. “I don’t know if I’m more upset about the audition or Sean.”
She lifts the wine bottle and pours me more wine. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the part you wanted, but you always bounce back from that. I’ve never seen you fall apart over an audition. Tell me what happened with Sean.”
I take another long swallow of wine and lean back into the couch, looking at the ceiling and willing my tears back. “This couch is so uncomfortable.”
“I know. Colin picked it for the lines. Hold on.” She transfers her wineglass and the bottle to an end table, pushes the coffee table out of the way, and takes a seat on the floor on a thick white shag rug with a swirling pattern.
I join her with my wineglass, and we lean back against the couch. “Much better.”
“Did Sean say he doesn’t believe in you? That doesn’t sound like something he’d say. He’s never deliberately hurtful.”
I study her for a moment. “Are you still in love with him?”
She gives me a rueful smile. “No. I think I was just looking back with nostalgia to him in my desperation for a better future for me and the baby. Sean felt safe. It goes back to his natural protectiveness.”
I think about how safe I felt with him right from the beginning, pretending he was the guard to keep the crazy people away. Something about his size, muscles, and confident steady demeanor. My eyes get hot, and I chug my wine.
Winnie hands me the bottle, and I empty it into my glass. “Oops, didn’t mean to take it all.” I go to pour half my glass into hers, but she covers her glass.
“I’m good,” she says with a laugh. “Tell me why you think Sean doesn’t believe in you.”
I take a deep breath. “Okay, I was upset about not getting the part. I was so close. They flew me out to LA and asked me to stay for a final callback, down to just five of us. I connected with the director, with the part, everything. It seemed like this was going to be it. Then I didn’t get it. And, yeah, I need to grieve that, and I was having a bit of an existential crisis over why I’m putting myself through all this rejection and uncertainty and just complete misery.”
“Like you do.”
“I know. I get like that when it’s a close one, but I really, really thought this was it, and it hit me harder than usual.”
“And he wasn’t supportive?”
“He was too supportive! He’s like, move in with me, let me take care of you. You can keep up your little non-career and always have me to lean on. Like he never thinks I’m going to have a real career. Like I need a man to take care of me! I’ve always been independent and make do for myself.”
“Oh, Josie.”
“What?”
“He never said anything like that to me.”
I lift a palm. “Exactly! Because you have a great job in the art gallery. He said, and I quote, ‘I should quit my job to travel with you because you might get something in a year or five?’ Or something like that. I’m paraphrasing. The point is—” I jab a finger in the air “—obviously he doesn’t believe in me. I’m a pet he wants to tuck in his pocket.” And he’d forever see me as incapable, inferior even. I just can’t go there.
She crinkles her nose. “Why would he quit his job to travel with you? You mean to auditions in LA?”
“No, to my future job on location for a movie.”
She stares at me.
“What?”
“Are you telling me you guys might break up over a hypothetical future scenario?”
I frown, tears welling again. “So now you don’t believe in me either.”
She gives my hand a squeeze. “Okay, you’re reeling from this audition rejection, I get that. But the fact that you say that I don’t believe in you tells me you’re not thinking clearly. I’ve been to every single one of your performances in high school and college. I’ve saved your commercial and your video series on my computer to watch forevermore. I will always believe in you, and you know that.”
I choke on a sob. She takes my wineglass away and hugs me, stroking my hair like the big sister she’s always been to me.
I cry for a bit and then sit up, wiping my eyes. “My eyes hurt.”
“I’ll get you a cold washcloth.”
She returns a few minutes later, and I set it over my eyes, tipping my head back.
“This is a setback,” she says firmly. “You’re resilient. Give yourself time to grieve the loss of your dream job.”
“I will.”
“You can stay with me in Brooklyn until the place sells. I’m going to have it staged with furniture, so it’ll probably look better if it looks like someone lives there.”
“Thanks, Win. I appreciate it. I really didn’t want to go to my parents and have to explain how sucky my career is. I want them to think I’m always busy with auditions and classes. Really hustling, you know? I don’t want them to think they wasted college tuition on me for a nonstarter dead end.”
“Sweetie, they’re so proud of you. I don’t think you have to worry about them being disappointed. Sometimes you’re too hard on yourself. I know you set high standards and high expectations, and I suppose that’s a good thing. It gives you ambition and the drive to keep going. You just need to work on believing in yourself.”
I take the washcloth off my eyes. “I do believe in myself. How do you think I keep going?”
“You got angry with me and with Sean because you thought we didn’t believe in you when you know I do, and he probably does too. I can’t help but think what you see in others is, deep down, what you see in yourself. You doubt Sean because you doubt yourself.”
I gape at her.
She pushes my open jaw closed with one finger. “Just let that sink in. In the meantime, do you want to watch Roman Holiday? Audrey Hepburn, Gregory Peck, Italy.”
“You have to ask? Of course I do. Thank you.” Winnie really gets me. Wait, does that mean she’s right? Do I not believe in myself? I’m not sure I can get my head around that one. I’ve spent years doggedly pushing myself forward.
“I’ll make us some popcorn. You want to spend the night? It’ll be like old times with our sleepovers. You can sleep in my bed with me. It’s plenty big. I won’t subject you to this awful couch.” She stands and offers her hand.
“Yes, thank you.” I take her hand, and she pulls me up. “Oh, Win, I always looked up to you. You’ve always been so good to your little twerp of a cousin.”
She smiles, her eyes welling. “You were the little sister I always wanted.” We’re both only children.
My eyes well too, and I can’t manage a word over the lump in my throat that just won’t go away. She gives me a hug before heading to the kitchen.
Much later, after the movie and a peaceful no-drama night, I conk out the moment my head hits the pillow.
I wake to the scent of coffee wafting in, and follow it to the kitchen.
She smiles at me. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” My head feels fuzzy. I help myself to a tall glass of water and settle at her small kitchen table, a glossy white thing. Colin really had a thing for white furniture.
Winnie hands me a mug of coffee, black like I like it, and then sets a box of doughnuts on the table. I lift the lid, and the scent of fresh doughnuts makes my mouth water.
“Omigod, I love you,” I say, helping myself to a glazed.
She laughs. “I know my girl.”
We eat in companionable silence for a few minutes before she says, “I need to get to work soon. Feel free to stay. Sean says we can move in to my place on Saturday.”
I chew
and swallow the donut. “You talked to him?” Did he ask about me? I wonder if she called him, or if he called to check up on me. I can’t ask. He didn’t text or call me.
“Yes.”
I focus on my coffee.
She goes on. “I told him you were upset about the audition, and he shouldn’t take whatever you said personally. It’s a quirk of living with an actor.”
“Winnie!” I wince and lower my voice. “It wasn’t just drama. He wants to take care of me like a little pet who can’t make it on her own.”
“He cares about you. For him that means taking care of you. I don’t think he means it as a reflection of your career prospects.”
“Well, he never said he wanted to take care of you.”
“No, but my relationship with him was different. I sort of took care of him. That’s just my way.” She smiles. “As you always say, I’m a domestic goddess. And that’s because I enjoy making sure the people I love are well fed and comfortable. Maybe he wanted to pass that kind of care onto you.”
I shake my head and instantly regret it. I sip my coffee and have a stern talk with myself about drinking too much wine. Traveling probably made me even more dehydrated. I get up and help myself to another glass of water, which I down at the sink before filling the glass again.
Winnie sets her mug in the sink and turns to me. “I know you feel like crap right now, but when you feel better, which you will, please talk to him. Don’t make the same mistake I did, walking out on him. He’s worth it.”
“You still love him.” The words are bitter in my mouth.
She sighs. “Remember what you suspect in others is often what you’re grappling with, way deep down, in yourself.”
I stare at her, somewhere between irritated and surprised. Do I do that? Am I in love with him despite his sexist, nonbelieving ways? Is it really me who’s the big doubter? But no, he still said he wants to take care of me. His vision of our shared future was us living in his world, like my career didn’t exist. And I know it doesn’t right now, but I do believe it will one day. Soon, I hope. See, I do believe in myself.
She kisses my cheek, grabs her purse, and heads out to work.
~ ~ ~
Sean
The first week after Josie decided to take a step back from our relationship, I kept cool. I figured she’d see reason and come back to me. Winnie explained it was just fallout from her audition rejection. I thought Josie would ultimately thank me for my generous offer to give her a solid foundation and take me up on it.
The second week was harder. I missed her too much. I couldn’t sleep. And she still didn’t get in touch. I even checked with Winnie if Josie was still around and not off visiting her parents. She was.
And now it’s been two and a half weeks since Josie walked out. Yeah, I kept track. Ya know, just like her cousin, she walks out the moment something better comes along. Though this is worse because Josie didn’t even leave me for a real reason. She left because she imagined I wasn’t on board with her career.
I’m sick of missing her. I think it’s great she’s an actress, even if it’s a completely unstable career. Is it so bad I don’t want her spending the rest of her life crashing on people’s couches?
Then it hits me. I do see her spending the rest of her life chasing a dream. Chasing it, not getting it. I pull my phone out and click over to her website, watching her reel again. She’s talented, and there’s no question she lights up the screen. I’m sure I’m biased because I’m in love with her, but still.
How do I show her I’m in her corner no matter what? I go back to our last conversation, replaying it again in my mind. She wanted to know I’d stick close, even if she traveled around for work. She told me she traveled as a kid with her mother’s opera career. Her father traveled with them too. That’s what love looks like to Josie. Everyone sticking together, everyone following their dream. But what did her father do?
I look her mother up online and quickly find my answer. Josie’s dad was her mother’s manager. I don’t see how that applies to me. I know nothing about the entertainment business and would be useless as a manager.
I still don’t have any answers when I get to work. It’s Friday, and I’m determined to figure something out that gets Josie back to me tonight. I don’t want to spend one more weekend without her, not even one more day.
By lunch, I’ve still got no good ideas for fitting into the version of Josie’s life where she does make it. That’s all she wants from me. To know I believe that version exists and still want to be a part of it. My brothers and I are having a working lunch at a pizzeria. Dylan’s going over some stuff I can barely focus on.
And then I hear “donations from local wealthy people,” and I’m suddenly alert.
“Wait, back up. Say that again.”
Dylan repeats himself patiently. “I was saying I wanna get donations from local wealthy people for the playground and landscaping.”
“A lot of wealthy actors live in Brooklyn,” I say as an idea forms in my mind. “They’d be interested in neighborhood revitalization.”
This could be my role both in my family’s company and with Josie. Dylan said before we all needed to find our niche in the new real estate development business. Dylan is CEO; Brendan scouts out new properties. This could be mine. I’ve already done fundraisers for Habitat for Humanity. Several, actually, and they were very profitable. Energy courses through me. This can work. I finally see how Josie and I can connect long term.
“I want this to be my niche,” I say.
Dylan’s brows draw down. “What’re ya talking about?”
My brothers all stare at me.
“You said before we could all dig in and find our niche in the company. This is mine. I’ll oversee the philanthropic arm with heavy involvement with showbiz people. I’ve got an in, more than one actually. Silvia knows Claire Jordan. It’s a job I could do virtually if I need to.”
He stares at me. “Why would ya do it virtually when you’re right here?”
“Because my girlfriend is a talented actress, and she’s gonna make it big.”
My brothers exchange looks of surprise, except Jack, who already knew about Josie.
“All in, huh?” Jack asks.
“Who is she?” Dylan asks me.
“Josie Abbott.”
“Never heard of her.”
“She’s not famous yet.”
Dylan stares at me for a long moment. “You’re my go-to guy. You said you’d be here when the baby comes.”
“Maybe you could have two go-to guys. I could step in if I’m local at the time, or one of these guys.” I point at the possible candidates—Jack, Connor, and Garrett. Brendan already has his niche.
Dylan blows out a breath. I know what he’s thinking. Garrett doesn’t have enough experience, Jack fools around too much. It has to be Connor. He’s smart and reserved, always thinking. Actually, the more I think of it, the more I think he’d be a good fit.
Jack makes it easy, holding up his palms. “Don’t look at me. I don’t want Dylan breathing down my neck about what’s gone wrong on my watch.”
I meet Connor’s eyes in silent communication. You, bud. It has to be you. He’s twenty-seven, not like he’s completely inexperienced. He’s got nine years of work experience under his belt.
“I’ll be your go-to guy, Dylan,” Connor says easily. “Just get me up to speed.”
I hold my breath because Dylan doesn’t respond right away. He always leans on me because, next to him, I’m the most experienced.
Dylan eyes us both before finally saying, “Okay, it’s yours, Con. Thanks. Sean, I don’t know what the hell you’re doing. You’re somehow gonna turn two actor connections into a philanthropic base?”
A weight lifts from my shoulders. “It’s a start. I can mix and mingle, connection to connection. I’ve done it before drumming up people to go to the Habitat for Humanity restaurant fundraisers.”
“What about the hands-on work?” he asks.
>
“As long as I’m local, I’ll be working hard like usual, and I’ll give you notice in advance if I need time away. I just…Josie’s going places, and I want to go with her.”
“He’s in lo-o-ve,” Jack sings in a falsetto, and then drops to his normal voice. “God help us all.”
Dylan gives Jack’s head a shove. “One day, bud. It’ll happen for you. Just keep wishing on a star.”
Everyone laughs, even Jack.
Jack shakes his head, still smiling. “No way. I’m heading to Vegas tonight with the guys for Sam’s bachelor party. I’m in charge of it, so ya know it’s gonna be wild.”
Dylan gets serious, pulling the older, wiser brother card. “It’s worth the effort to get to know someone for more than a hookup.”
Jack smirks. He thinks he knows better than Dylan, better than me. We both know what he’s missing out on. Something deeply satisfying.
“Dylan?” I prompt. I need to know if he’s okay with my plan.
Dylan turns to me, his expression softening. “Okay for your niche. I wanna meet her.”
I jump up from the table. “You will. Thank you! This is gonna be great.”
“Where’re ya going?” Dylan asks. “It’s lunchtime. Ya can’t quit for the day.”
“I hafta get my woman back.”
He rolls his eyes, muttering, “All this and he doesn’t even have her?” He raises his voice over the noise of my brothers snickering. “I’m docking your pay if you’re late.”
“Thanks, boss!”
I smile to myself. Now I have a way to be the boss too. I’m thinking director of the Rourke Foundation has a nice ring to it.
Chapter Fourteen
Josie
I drag myself back home. It’s not the same living with Winnie in a staged home as it was living with Sean in the same home. I know it’s crazy, but I miss the air mattress, the shared takeout, oh hell, I miss Sean. It’s affecting everything I do. I just had the worst audition of my life because I couldn’t play bubbly and happy for a stupid yogurt commercial. Why did I freak out that he wouldn’t be supportive of my career? I don’t have a career.
Rogue Gentleman (The Rourkes, Book 8) Page 15