I know he’s just being polite. I heard his stomach rumbling before, and we haven’t eaten properly since Denny’s.
We get back to the car.
“Okay, what’s really going on?” he says finally.
“I don’t know,” I reply, trying not to cry. “I just can’t seem to move forward. When I really wanted Corey to answer my calls, it was like he completely abandoned me, and now on the one day I was actively trying not to think about him, he finally decided to get in touch. It’s just so frustrating.”
“I know. It sucks dealing with exes, but you need to find a way to stop it from affecting you so much. Sort out your divorce…get counselling if necessary…and if you need a distraction in the form of great sex, I’m always here.”
I laugh, despite myself.
“It was great sex, wasn’t it?”
“It totally was. Which is why I’m happy to make myself available anytime.”
We listen to Top 40 radio all the way home, stopping briefly to fill up with gas and get food. I insist on paying for everything. It’s the least I can do, considering I’m such horrible company.
I feel so out of control and crazy. I hate being like this. Not only have I probably ruined Gia’s chance at an acting career, I have also caused Brad to have a crappy day.
When we get home, he stops the car, but doesn’t get out.
“Hey,” he says. “Look at me.”
I reluctantly meet his gaze.
“I know you’re going through some stuff and it doesn’t seem like it’s ever going to get better, but I promise it will. You’re a really cool chick, Chrissie. You deserve happiness.”
He leans over and kisses my forehead. “Come on. I’ll make you a hot chocolate and then we can watch some TV or something.”
I smile weakly. “Okay.”
It’s too late to call Gia tonight, and I feel like I need to talk to her in person anyway, so I follow Brad inside and have a quick shower while he makes us hot drinks.
I crash out on the couch. Brad hands me a steaming mug and then retrieves a blanket and pillow from my room, tucking me in. My heart overflows with gratitude and I have to remind myself to remember the boundaries of our relationship. I’m such a sucker for thoughtful guys.
I watch as he sits down on the other chair and turns on the TV, flicking through the channels.
“Are you okay with some Suits?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks again for everything. And sorry for the millionth time about being such a wreck.”
“Forget about it. It’s in the past.”
I lose myself in the world of Harvey, Mike and Jessica, and their clever scheming, and block out the events of the day. There will be plenty of time to hate myself tomorrow.
***
It turns out all that fresh air and hiking wore me out, and I actually sleep in the next day. Which is terrible because I was supposed to see Gia this morning to do some Marilyn Monroe research, and I can’t even text her to tell her I’m running late. I quickly get on my laptop and send her an email, explaining I’ll be over soon.
I then call the studio from the house phone. A recorded message asks me to enter the extension for the person I’m after, or hold for reception. I would seriously consider sacrificing a body part right now if it meant I could obtain Peter Carson’s extension.
After a moment, a bored sounding receptionist comes on the line.
“Hello, Lion’s Den Studios, how may I direct your call?”
“Uh, hi. This is Chrissie Lambert. I represent Gia King who will be auditioning for Peter Carson’s new movie. Would you mind putting me through?”
She sniggers. “You want me to just put you through to Peter Carson?”
“Yes please.”
“Who do you think you are? The president of the United States?”
“Er, no. I’m Gia King’s publicist,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Who the heck is Gia King?”
“Kahlua? The woman with triplets who used to be married to Jack Dean?”
“Ooohhh her. Yeah, not going to happen. If Peter wants to talk to her, he can get in touch with her himself.”
“But we were supposed to call him…” I try to explain.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not at liberty to put unauthorized calls through to Peter Carson. Thank you.”
I hear the click of the phone as she hangs up.
I sigh heavily. That went about as well as I expected.
And then it hits me. I have called Peter before, so the phone company should have a record of his number!
I quickly call the customer helpline.
Naturally, I have to jump through a bunch of virtual hoops just to get through to an actual person, but finally, someone answers.
“Hello, how may I help you?”
“Oh, thank God! I need you guys to please look through my call history and find a number I called on a particular date.”
“Certainly, I can attempt to help you with that. Do you mind if I put you on hold for a moment?”
I check my watch and see that Gia will be waiting for me, but if I can get the number, at least I won’t have to deliver bad news.
“Sure.”
I subconsciously tap my foot in time with the cheesy muzak on the phone, praying for her to hurry.
After eight excruciating minutes (I was counting), the woman finally comes back.
“Okay, so what date are you looking at?”
“Um, I think it was sometime in the week starting on the fourteenth of this month. Can you just send me a list of all the numbers I called then?”
“Oh. I’m sorry, but we don’t have the facility to provide customers with their call history for the current bill cycle. You should receive your next one mid-October.”
“But it will be too late then! I really need that number! Surely you have a way to retrieve stuff like that in emergencies.”
“The only kind of emergency we respond to is one involving the police. If the issue is relevant in a criminal case, please call your local law enforcement officer and have them follow the appropriate channels.”
“It’s not a criminal thing, but it is a matter of life and death!” I say, my voice getting more desperate. “Please!”
“I’m sorry. My hands are tied.”
“I’m sure they are,” I say sarcastically.
“Now, have I responded to your query in a satisfactory manner?” she asks robotically.
I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it. Is she for real?
“No, you haven’t!” I yell into the mouthpiece and stab the key to end the call.
Jesus. I think I’m going to have to look into changing phone carriers. That’ll teach me for going with a cheap one without features that allow you to check your call history right away.
I quickly change and then dash out the door. On my way to Gia’s, I try to figure out how I can possibly reach Peter. Do I know anyone who knows him?
Of course not. All his friends are A-list celebrities and multi-millionaires. Or at the very least, people I’m not familiar with.
When I worked at Perry Tyler, I had a whole list of contacts on my work computer I could call in case of an emergency, but I obviously don’t have access to that anymore.
Could I stalk the studio? Probably not without getting arrested.
I feel so helpless. I’ve completely failed Gia, the woman almost solely responsible for rescuing me when I was at my lowest.
When I get to her place, she opens the door. The wonderful smell of pancakes wafts towards me.
“I got your email, sleepyhead. I just made breakfast for the kids. Would you like some too?”
“No thanks.” The thought of eating anything right now makes me feel ill.
“You don’t look so good. Big night?”
“Uh, not exactly. Listen, I have something to tell you.”
“Are you okay?” Gia instantly switches to concerned mode, which makes me feel even worse.
“I’m
fine, but my phone’s not.”
“What happened? Are you worried about not being able to afford a new one? Because I have a spare you can borrow…”
“No, it’s not that,” I say hurriedly. “It broke when I was hiking at Yosemite yesterday. But the thing is, Peter Carson’s number was on the phone and now I have no way of contacting him.”
She finally understands, and her face collapses. It breaks my heart.
“Should I call the studio?” she asks hopefully.
“I already tried. I can’t get past the switchboard. I’m so sorry.”
“Do you have your contacts backed up somewhere? Aren’t they automatically stored on the cloud?”
“No,” I reply miserably. “I switched that feature off because I was worried about a security breach. And I already tried calling the phone company to see if they have a record of Peter’s number from when I last called but they have some stupid rule about only releasing information on the current bill cycle to police.”
“That’s unfortunate,” she says.
We both stand there in silence.
“I’m so, so sorry Gia.”
“It’s not your fault.”
I feel my face redden. If only she knew. But I can’t bring myself to tell her exactly what happened.
“Leave it with me,” I say with sudden conviction. “I will find a way to get in touch with Peter, even if I end up in prison.”
She smiles. “It’s okay. Sometimes things happen for a reason. Maybe the universe is telling me I shouldn’t be an actress and that I should focus on my business stuff instead.”
“You should totally be an actress! Look, I promise I’ll sort this out.”
“All right. Well, how about we go ahead with today as normal? We might as well prepare, just in case you do manage to reach Peter.”
“Yes. That’s a good plan.”
I sit with Gia the whole day while we scour the internet for articles and videos on Marilyn Monroe. With each passing second, I feel guiltier and guiltier. I really want to tell her about how I purposely threw my phone off the mountain, but I couldn’t bear having her mad at me.
I am definitely going to fix this.
***
I am exhausted and depressed by the time I get home at six. Gia wasn’t her usual bubbly self, and I hate that I am responsible for making her feel that way.
Will is sitting at the kitchen counter, which is unusual for him. He’s normally locked in his room.
He shoots me the same look he gave Gia when he saw her on TV that time.
“I don’t fucking believe you!” he spits.
“What?” I ask wearily.
“And after I was so nice to you on Saturday! You were working for that bitch the whole time!”
Ah.
“I’m sorry Will, I didn’t know at first…she said her publicist was called Billy and I didn’t make the connection…”
“Don’t you dare mention that name! I fucking hated it when she called me Billy! Like I was one of her retarded little kids or something. And to think I felt sorry for you and your pathetic marriage break-up. I was going to take you out to dinner and show you a good time, but all the while, you’ve stolen my job and lived in the same fucking house as me and haven’t even had the guts to tell me!”
“I swear I only realized when you pointed her out on TV that time.”
“So why didn’t you tell me then?”
“What was I supposed to say? If I recall correctly, you called her a whore and referred to her new publicist as a bitch.”
“Well, I got that right.”
“Will, look…”
“No, fuck you. You had your chance. You don’t mess with me. I’d watch my back if I were you. You’re going to regret this.”
I’m too tired to defend myself any further.
“Whatever…” I walk off and head to my room, closing the door behind me.
“I wouldn’t get too comfortable in there!” he yells through the wall.
What a perfect way to end the day.
I stay in my room until I hear Will leave for work. He’s left his iPad in the kitchen, open to one of the tabloids featuring an article from Gia’s baby food launch. There’s a small picture of the two of us and a label explaining who I am. I sigh. Well, I guess it had to happen sooner or later.
God, things can’t get much worse. I’m contemplating becoming a hermit and staying indoors from now on. Everything I do seems to end in disaster. Maybe I should quit working for Gia. Tomorrow I’ll come clean and tell her what really happened to my phone. And then she can decide whether she still wants me to be her publicist.
Someone raps aggressively on the door. I’m assuming Will forgot his keys or something, so I’m tempted to leave him outside. But then I hear a voice I wasn’t expecting. Corey.
“Chrissie! Open up!”
I pull open the door and stare at him.
“What the hell is going on?” he asks before I can even get a word out.
“I could ask you the same thing,” I reply, surprised at his tone.
“Have you lost your mind? What were you trying to prove?”
“What do you mean? Are you talking about the note I left? What did you expect? You keep this massive secret from me and then when I go over to unlock the house for the realtor because you’re too damn lazy to answer your phone, I discover you’ve moved someone in! How was I supposed to react?”
He shakes his head, exasperated.
“I’m not talking about the childish note you left on the door. I mean your phone call the other day!”
“What phone call?”
“Are you for real?” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and calls a number, switching it to speaker.
I listen, horrified. It’s the sound of me and Brad having sex. I must have accidentally called his number when I pulled it out of my jeans.
“Were you trying to make me jealous or something? Seriously Chrissie, I expected more from you.”
“Wait, it’s not what you think…”
“So you weren’t having sex with your roommate?”
“Uh…actually it was just the once and I was stoned…”
“Jesus, Chrissie, I don’t want to know the details!”
“Well, at least I didn’t move some guy into our family home without telling you.”
“No, but you moved into his.”
“But not with the intent of starting a relationship.”
“Now you’re just being nit-picky.”
“Fine. Believe that moving a boyfriend into our apartment is exactly the same as me spending one damn night with my roommate after I found out what you’d done, and also after I had to endure the baby shower from hell without any support!”
I burst into tears. Corey finally softens.
“Chrissie…”
“No, forget it. I don’t want to talk anymore. My life has been complete shit since you left and you’ve been acting as if I don’t even exist. Why couldn’t you just tell me what’s been going on?”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I should have told you about Jasper earlier, but it’s all been very sudden and he hasn’t officially moved in. He’s just staying for a couple of weeks because his house is being renovated.”
“How convenient.”
“You know, you really are being quite unreasonable about all of this.”
I glare at him, too angry to even get the words out. He takes this as a sign to keep going.
“I was going to tell you when the time was right, but then you go writing threatening notes and leaving messages of you having sex…”
“For the record, that was an accidental pocket dial.”
“Well, whatever it was, I’m kind of worried about you. Do you need to see someone?”
“No! And don’t be so damn patronizing! Anyway, you’re the bad guy. Why are you trying to make me feel bad?”
“I’m not the bad guy. And I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”
I angrily wipe away my tea
rs. “Look, I was supposed to call the realtor, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet. I think we have a buyer, so how about we just focus on that, sell the place and then we can talk about the divorce?’
Corey seems to relax. “Sure. Why don’t you let me call the realtor? I owe you.”
I puff out my cheeks. “Fine. Just phone Barbara at City Realty and find out what the offer was. If it’s more than ten thousand over what we paid, take it.”
“I’ll call her in the morning,” he says reassuringly.
“Good.”
“I guess I should go,” he says, sneaking a glance out to the driveway.
“Hang on. Is he waiting out in the car?” I ask in disbelief.
“Does it matter?” He deflects my question.
I throw up my hands. “I guess not. It’s not like I have any say in your life anymore.”
“Please, Chrissie. Let’s just try and keep things civil. What number should I call if I need to reach you?”
I fight back the urge to punch him in the face.
“Just call the house for now.” I write down the land line on a piece of paper and hand it to him.
“See ya,” he says, and then hurries out.
After he leaves, I slide down onto the floor feeling emotionally bankrupt. I can’t take much more of this.
I sit there for what seems like forever, but eventually crawl into my room and bury myself under the covers.
SEVENTEEN
I fall asleep, but wake up at midnight when I hear loud music blasting from the living room. I stumble out, rubbing my eyes.
“Guys! What the hell?”
Brad and Becky are slow dancing drunkenly beside the couch.
Brad smiles lazily at me. “Hey, Chrissie. Wanna join us?”
Becky shoots me a deadly look.
“No, she doesn’t,” she says, apparently answering for me.
“Oh come on, Beck. What do you have against Chrissie?”
“You know exactly what I have against her. What are you doing here anyway?” she demands.
“Last time I checked, I was a paying tenant of this house, but if you mean in the living room at this very moment, it’s because I was trying to sleep until the music woke me up.” I stand my ground. I’m not going to be intimidated by her.
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