Love on the Edge of Time

by Julie A. Richman

  “He wants to meet with me tomorrow afternoon,” Kylie’s tone was filled with surprise.

  “A meeting with the owner of the agency. I’ll bet there’s a major brand that wants you.” Over the last several months, Kylie’s bookings for modeling plus-sized brands and plus-sized lines had steadily increased. It was shocking how lucrative it was.

  But since Jesse and Zac had entered her life, working out had become a serious part of her weekly regimen and the results had been quite extraordinary. She wished there was a category in between, a normal girl category–somewhere between plus and ridiculously starved, for that is where she now best fit.

  “Crap, Sip,” Kylie looked concerned. “I hope I’m not getting fired from the agency, I’m kind of between modeling sizes. I just don’t fit in anywhere. He’s going to fire me, I know it.” Fuck, there’s no Ben & Jerry’s in my freezer, was her go-to first thought.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You are too valuable a face for them to lose. And between your runway and pageant experience, the photographers love working with you. You make it very easy for them.” Looking at her watch, Hayley started toward the curb, hand already in the air to hail a cab. “Call me tomorrow and let me know how it goes.” And she disappeared into the cab, sliding across the leather seat like butter on a hot griddle.

  Standing on the sidewalk for a minute, she thought about Hayley’s question, what if there was another woman in Jesse’s life? How would she feel? L.A. was packed with gorgeous women. And he was looking even hotter with his new cleaned up look–it really showcased how classically handsome he was. It wasn’t just that great hair and that killer ass. He looked like rock star turned movie star.

  She certainly wasn’t going to admit to Hayley what she was yet to admit to herself. She would be destroyed.

  “Fucking photoshoot,” she muttered to no one in particular and hailed a cab, heading back to her apartment. And fucking Sip, for putting that idea in my head. And fucking Jesse, for just living on the same planet as me and for being Jesse Fucking Winslow, who wasn’t just some asshole rocker, but this really cool, interesting, incredibly nice, and more than slightly messed-up guy. Ugh!

  Once in her apartment, she knew what she had to do. Tossing her clothes on the bed, Kylie quickly changed into workout gear and packed her gym bag. No Jesse. No training session with Zac. She was just going to go down to L9 on her own and work out, get her head out of this nasty, insecure place where some actress wannabe was hanging off Jesse’s dick and she was going to get canned by her agency for not being large enough for plus-sized modeling.

  Walking down to L9/NYC, she incessantly checked her phone for texts. Shit, I’m in deep, she realized. This is not good, not good at all. He’s Jesse Fucking Winslow.

  Just entering the great rotunda of the iconic health club calmed Kylie immediately, this place was becoming a sanctuary for her, a temple of healing both the mind and body. Even without Jesse waiting for her in their private space, L9 had become her safe place.

  Zac’s handsome dad saw her from across the main floor, smiled and waved. That small gesture made her heart smile. She was in a place where she belonged, a place that was all about getting healthy and healing. She did the right thing coming here this afternoon after her little emotional meltdown.

  Pushing herself hard on the treadmill, Kylie was easily able to slip into the zone. Raising the incline by a few degrees, she pretended she was training in the foothills of the Rockies and that was what was winding her, so she pushed on to an imaginary peak taunting her. Seriously peak, I’ve got your ass and the bigger one behind you. Watch me now!

  She was totally in the groove, off on that other plane when her mind began to wander to her appointment the next day. What should I wear to my meeting with Blaise Collins? she wondered. Something that makes me look thinner or something that makes me look heavier, so that I don’t lose the plus-sized work? She wished she knew why he had summoned her.

  At five miles, she looked up to see an amused Zac standing before her. Pulling out an earbud, she asked, “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Probably for your last mile and a half or so,” he smiled at her.

  Decreasing both the incline and speed, she began her cool down, glad to see Zac’s friendly face.

  “What are you doing out here?” It was a surprise to see her on the main floor.

  “Working out.”

  Zac laughed at his sassy client.

  “I’m here alone. Jesse is in L.A.,” she explained.

  “I’m really proud to see you here on a day when we don’t have a training session and Jesse isn’t here. That is a huge move, Red.”

  “Well, there was no Ben & Jerry’s in the apartment and I couldn’t think of anything better to do.”

  “I’ll buy you a smoothie.” The handsome blonde offered.

  “You get them free.”

  He laughed, lapsing into an easy smile that Kylie thought should definitely be in front of a camera, and with a nonchalant shrug confessed, “I’m just a lucky motherfucker.”

  “Two Zac Attacks,” he told the guy behind the juice bar.

  “So, what’s your story?” Kylie wanted to know the secrets she was certain he’d become a master of concealing behind mesmerizing pale blue eyes.

  “Well, my dad owns this place.”

  “Yeah, I know that. Do you work here full-time?”

  “I’m in school, too.”

  “Where and what for?”

  “Urban Engineering here at City College.”

  “Really, City College?” She had expected a pricey private school.

  Zac laughed and in a low, conspiratorial tone confessed, “Well, would you believe me if I told you that I’d been kicked out of Bryson?”

  Taking a sip of her Zac Attack at the moment of his confession, the green concoction went up her nose, causing her to cough. When she was able to speak again, Kylie had a most amused look on her face. “I wouldn’t expect anything less and that’s quite a feat because I’m sure your dad was paying full boat for you to go there.”

  “Go big or go home. I went big and I went home,” he admitted.

  “I’ll bet there’s a great story behind it.”

  From the look on his face, Kylie knew she hit the nail on the head. “Ya know, Zac,” she continued, “I think you and I might be kindred spirits.”

  “I knew that the first time I laid eyes on you, Red.”

  “Yeah?” With her fingertip, she drew in the condensation on her smoothie cup. “Demons that don’t want to take a back seat?”

  Again, Zac laughed, “Mine prefer a starring role. I think a few of them might be negotiating for their own cable series. Got a good shrink?” he asked laughing again.

  Kylie smiled, clearly to herself, “People say she’s good. I don’t know if that’s the word I’d use to describe her.”

  “No?” Zac leaned closer. “What word would you use to describe her?”

  “I’m not sure. Nothing complimentary though. I feel like we have an almost adversarial relationship. I harbor really bad feelings toward her. As a matter of fact, I cannot stand her and I really don’t know why. She just really rubs me the wrong way.” Kylie verbalized for the first time, admitting the feelings not only to Zac, but to herself.

  “Wow. Then why are you seeing her?” Zac looked confused. “Why not find someone else to treat you? Someone you actually like. There are like a gazillion shrinks in this city.”

  Kylie was silent, clearly considering the question her new friend had posed. “I don’t know. Ya know, I’m not really sure. Just this feeling that she’s the one who is supposed to be treating me. And I kind of like getting in her face. I get this total satisfaction from it and I don’t know why, but I just do.”

  Finishing off his smoothie and putting his cup on the counter, he leaned down and whispered in her ear. “My money is on you, Red.

  ••••••

  Toots, you around? It was after three a.m. when she got the tex
t.

  Reaching over, Kylie grabbed her phone. Barely.

  Bare-ly? Mmm-mmm. I like that. Can I call?

  Sure. She really needed to hear his voice after her insecurity meltdown earlier in the day.

  The phone rang a moment later.

  “So, are you really bare, Toots?” His raspy tone sounded even sexier in the dark of night.

  “No, I can’t sleep naked,” Kylie admitted.

  “That’s because you are not sleeping next to me.”

  “Well, there are a million and one women who would kill to sleep naked next to you, you really don’t need me for that.”

  “Ah, Toots, it’s not about needing you for that, although I do. It’s about wanting you for it.”

  Kylie didn’t answer. Being half asleep, she felt like her guard wasn’t fully engaged as she listened to his seductive declarations. Running her fingers up and down a lock of her hair, the way Jesse always did, elicited a full body quiver, making Kylie feel like he was there with her in the dark.

  “Kylie, I miss you. I like having you around me.”

  “I miss you, too, Jesse.” Kylie could feel the tension returning. She was giving away too much and he was getting too close. It was starting to feel uncomfortable. “So, what’s going on with the band.” Changing the subject would immediately return the conversation to safer ground.

  “I had a really good meeting with them. Talked about songs I’m working on. I’ve got lunch with Bongo tomorrow. He’s my only real roadblock, so we’ll see how that goes.”

  “Do you think you’ll get back together?” Kylie hoped he said yes, but feared that would mean more time in L.A.

  “I let them down. I let our fans down. I let me down. I lost control and stopped delivering what I promised. What the music promises. I get that now.”

  As Kylie listened, she wondered if he was generally this honest with women or if it was because he was talking to her and they had shared things they would never share with anyone else. “I’m now in control of things that I’ve never been in control of my entire life. Being onstage for me was the only place I felt I had complete control before, or what I thought was complete control. Control of the band. Control of the crowd. Control of the music. Onstage was my redemption. Does that make sense?”

  “I think so.”

  “I could avoid danger through control. I guess danger and guilt were the two things right below the surface of my consciousness.”

  “For your father’s bandmate’s death?” Kylie tried to follow.

  “Yeah. And I didn’t even remember that, and obviously never coped with it. So, when I could control everything by performing, I could avoid danger through control,” he paused. “You know love is dangerous.”

  Surprised and thrown by the non-sequitur, Kylie needed to know more. “What makes you say that?”

  “Redheaded women who make my heart beat out of control.”

  “Julia?”

  Laughing, “Shit, what that woman did to me. There was nothing more important in life. I had zero control when it came to that one. In the end, I wasn’t using my head, I was over-confident and I became careless. It cost us both our lives.”

  A chill passed through quickly leaving every hair on her arms standing at attention. I wasn’t using my head, I was over-confident and I became careless. It cost us both our lives. The irony didn’t escape her. That is exactly what you did, Bruno. Those could have been your words.

  Maybe it’s a guy thing, she wondered.

  “But no, silly, not just Julia. There’s another redhead who has gotten me all crazy and distracted.”

  “Oh?” Smiling, she continued stroking the lock of her hair.

  “I miss you, Toots. I just want to come home. Now go back to sleep. I just needed to hear your voice before my day ended.”

  Visions of groupies nestled between his legs quickly dissipated.

  ••••••

  Blaise Collins had style, lots of it.

  Definitely not standard good-looking by any means, and probably only five-foot-seven, the man exuded confidence in the way that very few do. Known for his hand-sewn Italian suits, three-hundred-dollar haircuts and very subtle plastic surgery, the guy was actually a head turner. A powerbroker who grew up on the streets of Brooklyn, learning at a young age, what the smart, short wiry kid needed to do, not only to survive, but to thrive. He was wheeling and dealing long before hitting middle school.

  “Kylie, so good to see you, love.” He took her hand in both of his. “You just keep getting more and more beautiful.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek before indicating she should take a seat. “I’ve been following your bookings, we’ve been keeping you quite busy.”

  “Yes, you certainly have,” she smiled, “and I truly appreciate it.”

  “Over the past few years, the plus market has really become lucrative and we follow the trends. Sometimes we help make them,” he added with a smug smile. “You’ve been a great face for us to add.”

  Just get to the point, she wanted to scream at him.

  “It’s impossible not to notice your weight loss and fit stature.”

  “Thank you.” Kylie smiled sweetly. “I’ve been working hard on getting healthy.”

  “What are your plans regarding that?”

  “I’m not sure I understand the question.” Kylie could feel the tight furrow form in her brow and immediately told herself to stop.

  “Are your plans to get back to the size you were in during your previous modeling and pageant days.” He paused and added sheepishly, “Especially now, considering your relationship with Jesse Winslow.”

  Smile, she screamed at herself, smile, so that you don’t go all Gracie Hart on this asshole and deck him. “Well, Blaise,” she addressed him by his first name, “that’s a pretty complex question, but I’m going to be very honest with you. No, I have no plans at all to get anywhere near my previous weight. I’d like to drop another fifteen or twenty, tops, and continue to get into good shape through exercise. So, I know that is a conundrum for you since I will neither be plus-sized and I’ll be far from being model-sized.” And with the sweetest smile she could muster, “My plan is to be normal, healthy girl-sized. And I really hope the agency will support me in sending out a message of beauty and positive body-image at all sizes.”

  “Jesse looks like he’s gotten pretty healthy,” he changed the subject.

  Cocking her head and smiling, Kylie looked the powerful man directly in the eyes, “Yes, he has, he’s looking very fine these days.”

  “I like the cleaned-up look and short hair,” the agency head commented.

  “Looks like a model himself, doesn’t he?” She was surprised at how proud of him she felt, but having accompanied him on his rocky journey, it was impossible not to feel exalted.

  “He really does. He’s got bone structure most men or women would kill for and the camera just loves him.”

  “Almost as much as he loves it,” Kylie couldn’t help but think that was another of Jesse’s situations where he felt in control, manipulating a lens to see him exactly the way he wanted to be seen, telling a story he’d crafted like a master.

  “Please, give him my best.” Blaise stood, indicating the meeting was over.

  “I absolutely will.”

  As Kylie walked out of the meeting, she tried to decipher what had really just happened. Time would tell how hard they would work on her behalf now that she didn’t fit into a standard group. She had a feeling though that her association with Jesse might remove some of that control from Blaise’s hands, and she might be more of an asset and a draw to keep around–no matter what size she was.

  Kylie felt conflicted that her fate and her worth lay in the hands of men and not of her own making.

  ••••••

  Bongo had gone vegan.

  I guess we’re all getting healthier, Jesse thought, as he pulled up to the Crossroads Kitchen Restaurant on Melrose. Upon entering, he immediately saw Bongo at a small table j
ust outside the bar area in the warmly lit dining room.

  Noting the recognition in the hostess’s eyes, he quickly informed her that he saw the party he was there to meet and immediately headed for the table without waiting for an escort.

  “Mr. Cole,” Jesse greeted his oldest friend.

  “Mr. Winslow.” Bongo nodded his head.

  In the moment of awkward silence that ensued, Jesse let reality surface. He’d missed his oldest friend and fellow band founder.

  “I missed you, Casey.” Besides his mother, his wife, and his sisters, Jesse Winslow was the only person to ever call him Casey. It was like calling Ringo, Richard. Who?

  “You look good, Jess. I’ve got to admit that. I was watching you yesterday and you really seem to have gotten your shit together.”

  Picking up the menu, purely to occupy his fidgety hands while they had this conversation, Jesse began, “It’s a journey and it’s been a lot of work. A lot of internal realizations, admitting that there are issues, big issues in my case, and then figuring out how to deal with them in a productive way, you know.” Jesse picked up his sweaty water goblet and took a sip. “I’m sorry, Casey. I’m sorry for what I’ve put you, your family, and everyone associated with us through.”

  Casey sat back and looked at his friend, “So what’s this? Some make amends with everyone you’ve wronged step in a Twelve-Step Program?”

  Wincing at the affront and attack on his sincerity, Jesse shook his head. “In my case, it’s a two-thousand-year program,” was his cryptic response. He understood his bandmate’s anger, which had probably been festering for months. “Bongo, I know you’re angry.”

  Cutting off his friend, the drummer seethed, leaning across the table. “Angry doesn’t begin to describe what I feel.”

  “I know.”

  “You are the most self-centered, narcissistic piece of shit I have ever met in my life. You don’t give a flying fuck about anyone but yourself. You never stop for one second to consider whose lives you are affecting. You truly don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself. You have no idea how to love another human being.”