After a brooding silence, we finally reached her office.
“What is so important that you feel the need to interrupt me in the middle of class, Alexa?”
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” My chest suddenly tightened. “About my future.”
“And?” she asked.
“I can’t deal with these odd jobs anymore.”
Isabella crossed her arms. “Well, whose fault is that, Alexa?”
“Mine and I don’t know how many times I have to apologize for one mistake.”
“It was more than a mistake.”
“But it’s been long enough for you to forgive and forget. If you don’t trust me anymore, fine. Just don’t make me suffer the rest of my career because of it.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Alexa. I just really don’t have anything substantial right now. Projects on movie sets only come along once in a great while.”
“It doesn’t matter. I want out. I feel comfortable enough to represent myself.”
Isabella broke eye contact with me and looked down at the piles of paperwork on her desk. “I knew this day was eventually going to come.”
“Well, I’m sorry. The jobs you’re sending me on aren’t exciting anymore. I’ve lost my enthusiasm for this industry, especially after I was pulled off the movie set.”
She opened a desk drawer, extracted a small piece of paper and handed it to me. The name Gian McDonald was scribbled on it, along with a phone number.
“What's this?” I asked.
“I registered you with the Television and Film Bureau several months ago,” she explained. “Earlier today, this gentleman called and said he was familiar with your work.”
“And?”
“He's the executive producer for a new television show that's going into production this fall. He's interested in speaking to you about a permanent position as makeup artist for one of the actors.”
“A television show?”
“Yes, I believe that’s what I just said.”
“Wow. I...I don’t know what to say. You didn't have to do this,” I said, feeling a lump of enormous guilt form in my throat.
“I know. Though I would like to, I can't keep you forever.” I detected a trace of sorrow in her voice. “I think you’re ready to move on.”
“Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“If Gian hires you, promise me you’ll keep in touch. I can’t bear losing contact with one of my best.”
I smiled warmly and said, “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.”
Isabella had just performed yet another one of her miracles. Thank God for her never ceasing to lose her faith in me. For three years, Isabella had held my hand throughout each step of my career and I’d never forget all she had done for me. As grateful as I was for her help, I couldn’t wait for the new chapter in my life to begin.
***
“You look incredible,” Scotty said on the morning of his awards dinner.
“Thanks. So I'll meet you at the hotel tonight?” I asked as checked myself out in my new black, skintight cocktail dress
“I thought we were going together.”
“You know my schedule, Scotty.”
“Yes, and we agreed on going together.”
“I can’t promise I’ll be off work early enough.”
I learned in the beginning of our relationship that Scotty was always the first to relinquish in an argument, and I knew I had won when he stared at me in silence.
I had cooked up a way to get out of Scott’s awards dinner by the time he left for work. My behavior would be shifty and dishonest, but it would work. The dinner wasn’t supposed to start until seven thirty, but I had planned ahead. When I could no longer avoid doing so, I phoned Scotty.
“I have bad news. Don’t get mad okay? Someone got sick on the set, so it looks like I’ll have to be here all night to cover.”
“No, Alexa. Tonight is important to me. You promised you’d be here.”
“We’re in the middle of filming a huge scene. I'm sorry, but I just can’t leave.”
“I need you here. Don’t you get that?”
“Scotty—there’s nothing I can do!”
“You gave me your word.”
“They’re about to start filming again. I'll call you later.” I hung up before he had the chance to say another frustrated word.
It didn’t take long for the guilt to settle in, and I was under an enormous weight of weariness by the time I pulled up to Carter's driveway. I sat in my car, pondering my behavior. I was tragically in love with both of them, but my heart belonged to Carter—it always had, it and it always would.
The guilt over my deception quickly dissipated when Carter opened the front door. He wore a black cashmere sweater and dark denim blue jeans, and I nearly melted at the sight of him.
“Wow—you look amazing,” he said, looking me up and down.
“Thank you,” I replied meekly. “So do you.”
Knowing how comfortable I was around him was part blessing and part curse. The way we nonchalantly walked straight to the living room and discussed the highlights of our day felt as natural as my own thoughts.
“I think we need to talk about something,” I said.
“Sure. What’s up?” Carter asked as he poured me a drink.
“We need to be discrete.”
“I know.”
“I’m actually afraid to leave your house. The paparazzi will be swarming you tonight.”
“I’ll be honest— there’s really no place in southern California I can go without them hunting me down.” He chugged back a shot of tequila. “But at least we have my bodyguard on duty.”
“Yeah, but that won’t stop those animals from taking pictures of us.”
“Hey, it’s the price I have to pay. Take it or leave it.”
“Well, I can’t run the risk of my husband standing in line at a grocery store somewhere and seeing our faces slathered all over one of those gossip rags.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out,” he said. “Oh, by the way, I have something for you.” Carter scurried out of the room and came back with a rather large box wrapped in polka dot gift wrap.
“For me? What is it?” I asked, taking the box from him.
“Well, silly, you have to open it to find out. That’s the point of a surprise,” he said, rolling his eyes in amusement.
I carefully unwrapped the gift and lifted the cardboard lid just enough to peek inside. I caught a glimpse of something black and furry. The further I inspected the gift, the more I came to realize that it was way beyond some ordinary trinket. I was left almost breathless at the vision of a black fur coat.
“Oh my goodness,” I said as I ran my hands over the silky material. It was so soft and so plush that my hands nearly disappeared in it.
Carter took the coat out of the box and helped me slip into it. “Do you remember?”
“Remember?”
“When we were kids—” He stood back and admired me in the coat. “I told you that if I ever made it big—”
“You would buy me a fur coat and take me to all the premiers. Yes, I remember,” I said, cutting him off. It all came rushing back to me like a tidal wave of memories.
“I never forgot that promise.”
I crushed my body against him and pressed my dry, achy mouth to his. I kissed him a little too eagerly, like I was trying to make up for lost time, but I couldn’t stop myself. “It’s impossible to explain the way I feel when I’m with you.” I looked deeply into his eyes, finding the remedy for all my fears.
Carter swallowed audibly, as if nervous, and took my hand. He peered down at it like it was the most beautiful, dainty thing he’d ever seen. “You may not believe it, but I thought about you nearly every single day that first year.”
“Maybe we were thinking of each other at the same moments,” I said, smiling at him. “But for me I thought about you every second of the day.”<
br />
“Would you do me a favor?” he asked. “Wear the coat for me tonight?”
“Of course. I’d be honored., but to avoid drama, I think it’s best I leave it here when I’m not wearing it.”
***
The flash of paparazzi cameras gave off a nearly blinding glare when we pulled up to Mr. Chow's Chinese Restaurant. This was presumably the first hint of what was about to come. I wondered why on Earth Carter decided to take me to a place known for celebrity sightings after we had discussed keeping a low profile. The scene was like tossing a steak to a frenzy of sharks. I darted a quick look back at the chaos as the car inched its way to valet. Carter’s bodyguard waited outside the restaurant. The minute Carter stepped out of the car, a swarm of paparazzi surrounded us.
“Back-off!” Carter’s bodyguard said to a photographer.
“Just hold on to my hand and follow me,” Carter said.
“Aiden! Aiden!” screamed a photographer. “Who's your date?”
“Miss, you look beautiful tonight. What’s your name?” asked another photographer who crept up behind me.
“Don't worry about it, man,” Carter said as we made our way through the crowd.
Several girls screamed at the top of their lungs when he passed by. We continued pushing through the bodies that enclosed around us. Surprisingly, this type of attention was far from pleasing to Carter.
“Aiden, love your music!” shouted another paparazzi. “When’s your next album coming out?”
It took us around ten minutes to make our way through the maze of bodies, from the curb to the doorway. One thing became clear by the time we finally stepped inside the restaurant: Being a pop star was no walk in the park.
Inside the massive restaurant, dim glowing lights and extravagant furniture made for a soft and elegant setting.
“I have a private section reserved under the name Storm,” Carter said to the host.
The host walked us back to a beautifully decorated part of the restaurant to where we were seated in a dining section accompanied with several Andy Warhol paintings.
“I’ve always heard about this place. Just never thought I would actually ever eat here,” I said. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, what’s up?”
The clinking of flatware coincided with the sounds of conversation surrounding us. With my thoughts interrupted I asked, “If I told you I wanted to keep it discrete tonight, why would you bring me to one of the most celebrity-heavy restaurants in L.A.?”
Carter put his hand on top of mine, as though taking no offense, and said, “Because it’s one of my favorites.”
I don’t know what triggered it. In a sudden inexplicable guilty haste, I thought about Scotty all alone at his awards ceremony and what I was in for when I got home. I just wanted to enjoy the evening for the time being and not think about any of my personal problems.
We dined that evening on exotic dishes such as rice-paper prawns and soup dumplings. Each time Carter and I collided, our conversations grew a little deeper. He had no fear of speaking about his past run-ins with the law and how he was once almost at the point of becoming an alcoholic. He explained how he was a changed man, and that he wasn’t planning to head down that dark road ever again. I was honored that he was comfortable enough to open up to me.
“So what's next for you?” I asked, taking a sip of wine.
“Well, I'm going to be on Jay Leno tomorrow. I have to go down to the studio to tape in the afternoon. Then, I'm on a flight out to Sweden to finish the production of my new album.”
“Wow, Sweden. For how long?” I asked.
“A month. Don't worry—we'll keep in touch. I promise,” he reassured me. “Let’s just enjoy the time we have together as of this moment.”
I wondered how I would survive a month without Carter now that he was back in my life. I could see the reason why so many celebrities broke up. The long periods of separation had to be unbearable that it wreaked havoc on the relationship.
“I'll miss you,” I said softly.
“Hey, cheer up. It's only a month.”
I leaned forward and shot him a weak smile. “Thirty days will seem like thirty years.”
The moment we stepped foot outside the restaurant, the paparazzi bombarded us once again. Quickly but prudently, we reached Carter's car safely with the help of his bodyguard.
***
Carter drove to a remote, deserted parking lot somewhere in Hollywood. He put on a beanie and sunglasses before we got out of the car. He didn’t have any problem walking the streets like he was any regular old Joe. As we strolled along the dazzling city streets of lights and glimmer, Carter pointed out different landmarks and celebrity homes. We passed dozens of homeless people begging for spare change on the way downtown.
“Oh my God! It's Aiden Storm,” someone shouted.
Carter turned his head away from the passerby and continued walking along like he hadn’t been noticed. Within seconds, swarms of fans, onlookers, and paparazzi gathered around him.
Carter stared back at me warily and then grabbed my arm, pulling me out of the suffocating circle and into a coffee house. Once inside, we exchanged looks of apprehension. The facility was crowded, but we weren’t sure if we’d exactly blend in.
“It might be a while. I’ll get us some coffee,” he said.
I sat nervously at a little round table as he went to the counter, awaiting his return.
Carter came back with two steaming cups of coffee in hand. “I got us lattes.” He sat himself in the chair beside me, and said, “Sorry about all the madness.” He tore open a packet of sugar and dumped the contents into his coffee. “I was sure I would be able to go unnoticed tonight.”
“Don’t worry about it.” After I took a sip of coffee, I looked up and caught Carter’s ambivalent stare. “Carter?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad we’re hanging out.”
“Me too.”
“Thank you for tonight,” I responded, placing my hand on top of his. “And for coming back into my life.”
“I just wish I didn’t have people up in my business all the time.”
A flood of sympathy washed through me at the sight of dejectedness in Carter’s eyes. “Hey,” I said, pinching one of his cheeks. “No sad thoughts tonight.”
***
The first streaks of dawn were visible by the time I arrived back at Carter’s place. Although, I hadn’t bothered to care, I really needed get home. I held Carter in a sweet embrace as I stood in front of his doorway saying goodbye.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening. I really needed it,” I said.
“Anytime.”
I propelled my body close to Carter and explored his face with my fingertips. I couldn’t wait much longer, and after a deep breath, my mouth crushed against his. An impulse of hidden emotions swept me away like a crashing wave. My lips traveled all over his mouth as my fingers ran though his hair.
“Wow,” Carter said, virtually out of breath. “This gets better each time.”
“And each time I feel guiltier. Carter—”
He put his finger on my lips. “Shhh. No more talking.” A trace of amusement lit his eyes and he kissed me again. “Just kissing.”
***
I immediately made my way to the bedroom, assuming Scotty was already in bed. All I could do was pray that he would forgive me for missing his awards ceremony in the morning.
“Alexa?” Scotty stood in the hallway still dressed in his business suit.
My heart stopped for one beat at the sight of him. “Oh, you scared the crap out of me.”
“Where have you been?” he asked, rather calmly. He switched on the hallway light and stood with his arms crossed in apparent disapproval.
“I just got off work. It’s been a really crazy night.”
“Really, huh?”
“There was just no way I could get out of work,” I lied. “On top of that, I’m beat. Can we talk about this in the morning?”
<
br /> “I called Isabella,” he announced suddenly.
I almost stopped breathing at his sulky tone. “Oh? What for?”
“I was concerned.”
“Well, here I am, good as new. Let’s go to bed.”
His muscular frame blocked me from entering the bedroom. “Funny thing, Isabella didn’t know where you were either.”
I was rendered speechless.
“Listen, I don’t know what is going on, but you have better explain yourself.”
I took a deep breath and braced myself. The truth was going to come out sooner or later. I figured I might as well get it over with right then.
“I showed up late to the movie set a few weeks ago and—”
“And what?”
“And I got fired. I’ve been keeping busy with small side jobs until I find something more permanent.”
“So you’ve been going behind my back all these weeks? Wait a minute—” He grabbed me by the arm and pointed at my fur coat, which I had foolishly forgotten to take it off. “Where the hell did you get this from?”
“It’s just a prop from the project I was working on. I was cold, so they let me wear it home. I have to take it back tomorrow.” Lying to him had become far too easy.
“Pretty fancy prop they let you borrow, huh?”
I needed to change the subject before something slipped out. “So Isabella didn’t tell you anything else?”
“No, she was vague. Obviously, these jobs are minuscule enough that you could have found some way to be with me tonight.”
“Scotty, it’s not the end of the world, okay?”
“Do you know how embarrassed I was—not having a clue as to my own wife’s whereabouts?” he asked, raising his voice.
“It’s always about you, isn’t it, Scotty? God forbid I miss one of your stupid dinners. Isn’t this like the sixth one this year?”
“Stupid? All I wanted was my damn wife at my side.”
“Come on. There are more important things in life than being “Broker of the Year,” Scotty.”
He smirked. “You’re such a child.”
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