He touched me as if he never had before. There was a slight hesitation in his hands as they gently found my hips and thighs, but after a moment they relaxed, spreading warmth across my skin.
"Don’t be rough," I whispered hoarsely, half of my confidence gone as the reality of the moment sunk in.
His hands stopped. "What?"
I couldn’t help feeling vulnerable as I was prepared to say my next sentence. "Don’t be rough on me."
"I would never..."
"We’ve both been rough. But I’m still recovering and things aren’t entirely back to normal down there. So don’t get rough."
"Are you sure you want to do this?" His hands moved from my hips to my face, cupping them with great care as he stared up at me, concern clearly on his face.
"Nick, I haven’t had sex since before we got divorced. I’m pretty sure I want to do this." But my resolve was shaken.
"I meant are you sure you want to do this with me?"
"Unless you’ve got another guy hidden in the house somewhere, you’re my first choice."
He was quiet for a moment, then, "I can’t."
He tried to gently move me from on top of him but I pushed back against him, placing my hands around his neck until my fingers met the valley of newly shorn hair on the back of his head. "But I know you can."
"Layla, you just had a baby a few weeks ago. And as much as I want to... I just can’t. I don’t want to hurt you. Let’s wait a while. If for nothing else then for your own body." Begrudgingly I let him pick me up from on top of him and placed me back on my feet.
I felt defeated. And deflated. And I wanted to cry. Nick was turning me down for sex. And then I did cry.
He cupped my face in his hands and forced me to look at him. But I couldn’t. My pride was bruised. "Baby please don't cry!" he soothed.
"I need to be touched, Nick. I need to be loved. I want so desperately to be made love to."
He didn’t say anything. He got up from the bed and retrieved his shirt from where it had landed on the floor. He came back to me, took me hands and sat me up on the bed. He slipped the shirt over my body and then slid off my new shoes, one by one.
I could barely even see, the tears were so blinding. I felt pains all over my body, physical and emotional. I could feel Nick moving around me, hear the sounds he was making, but I had no idea what was going on. All I could feel was my own shame and embarrassment. I could only see my own tears.
A light switched off. I felt the bed sheets covering my body. And then I felt Nick. I felt his arms wrapped around me. I felt the warmth of his body next to mine and I started to fall asleep.
"I’ll always make love to you."
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Fourteen Months Later
Who’d have guessed that Doctor Brown would turn out to be such a funny, sweet and interesting person outside of the office? We had since parted ways as Doctor-Patient and became shopping pals and ladies who lunch. Jess - who’d even thought she had a first name? - and I got together every Wednesday for lunch and shopping, a ritual we’d started almost a year ago. Somehow my shrink had become my best friend. Usually it happens the other way around. But then again I’ve never believed in doing anything in a traditional manner.
"So have you heard from the ex?" she asked me over lunch at a bistro on a sunny afternoon.
And he was the start of it all. "It’s the longest we’ve gone without so much as speaking to each other, if you don’t count the first 20 years we didn’t know each other."
"Wow. I thought for sure he’d have at least called by now."
"Nope. Nick works everything in his own time frame and, well you know men, they can’t multitask. Making a phone call in between interviews overseas in Japan just takes too many arms I guess." It should have been funny. I fake laughed anyway. You could tell the difference.
"Well if not for you then at the very least he should call for Tyler. I mean, he’s fifteen months old now. Nick’s already missed out on eight tenths of his son’s life. The first four years of a child‘s life are the most formative. We may not remember anything before the age of five but those cognitive processes are there."
"Wow Jess." I looked at display on my cell phone. "Only ten minutes into the conversation before you whipped out the five-dollar psych terms on me. " We both laughed. For real this time.
"Oh God I’m sorry. Occupational hazard."
"Don’t be, you’ve improved so much. And thank you for not charging me for these lunches."
"I don’t have to since you always pay."
"Correction, Nick always pays."
She sucked her tongue between her teeth so it made a particularly annoying sound. "So he’s still sending you money?"
"Once a week, just like an allowance. Plus a check once a month for child support. I guess he just wanted to make sure that we was providing for his child every legal way possible, even though the law doesn’t know that he’s never here."
"Well it’s still saying something on his part. He understands his responsibilities, at least financially. It’s a good thing, Layla."
"Yeah but the whole allowance thing kinda gets to me once in a while. You know, I think to myself, Is he paying me off? Is he bribing me for something? And you know what I do when it all just gets too much for me?"
Jess took a sip of her wine and shook her head.
"I buy a shit load of shoes."
She couldn’t hide the rolling motion her eyes made with her laugh. "That’s bad, Layla!" Though she did look amused, and maybe even a bit proud.
"Well if it’s my allowance then I feel I should buy myself something special. Although half the time I just want to tear up his checks." Truthfully most of the time the money went straight into my bank account. One day I considered starting my own trust for Tyler, but stopped when I realized it would never match the one Nick had already set up for him. It wasn't a competition, but I still felt beat. Instead I looked into a college fund and knew even if I couldn't give him a lifetime of financial security, I could help give him something just as important.
"Then why don’t you? It’s not like you need the money."
I took a bite of my salad and shook my head. "I get more satisfaction this way. Besides, I figured that in five-inch heels I’ll be taller than him."
"I didn’t know that was so important to you."
"Not really. I couldn’t give a shit about it all. He’s gone, you know, and my life isn’t ruined and I’m certainly not going to let my son’s life be ruined by it. But when I think about how, in twenty years when VH1 is interviewing Tyler for his father’s Behind The Music special that they’re going to show the pictures of Nick all over that celebutard, of all people in the world, whose name I refuse to even think about." Though with it all over the Internet it was pretty difficult to ignore.
"Layla, now remember we said we wouldn’t talk about her again."
"I know, I know. But come on she has the intellectual depth of a jellyfish. And then last month he was in LA and seeing some Playboy Playmate. No wonder the man turned me down for sex fourteen months ago. Why sleep with me when he could sleep with a socialite or a Playboy model? I can’t compete with that."
"Oh come on, sweetie. You’d win. Hands freakin down! You’d win! You’re the mother of his child! You’re always going to be the comparison."
I eyed her suspiciously as I sipped from my glass of wine. "What do you mean?"
"Well when men date they often compare their new conquest to their former relationship. In Nick’s case, he’s comparing every girl - the jellyfish, the Playgirl - to you." That’s a comforting thought.
"Yeah, and he’s still choosing them."
"Well would you rather have him choose you?"
"Not now. Not without some serious penile cleansing and a panel of STD tests. I just don’t want my child to be exposed to that world. You know with the way things are now I’m home all the time with him, I can take care of him, he’s never going to need to want for anythin
g, and he doesn’t have to see his father and his conquests."
"I guess you have a point." We both sipped from our wine and allowed the moment to pass. So where are we headed today?" Jess asked after a long moment.
"Sephora. All the way. I’ve got a long list of essentials I absolutely must buy. Come on I’ll buy you a makeover too!"
"Layla, Sephora’s makeovers are free."
"True. So we’ll also flirt shamelessly with the makeup attendants, which produces a feeling almost matching that of the exhilaration of spending way too much money on lipstick and blush. Especially since all the male makeup attendants at Sephora are gay."
"Is that your phone?"
"Huh?" I asked. I looked down to find my phone vibrating off the table. "Sorry. Give me a second." I didn't look at the display long before tapping the green icon. "Hello? This is Layla Garrett, who’s this? Of course, how are you doing? Good, good. I see. Okay. Yes. Yes. Okay. Well if that’s what he wants then okay. Uh huh sure. I’d love to. No, don’t be silly I can find my way. Let me just call my babysitter. Can I give you a call back in about ten minutes? Thank so much. Bye." I looked to Jess and smiled politely. "I’m so sorry just give me a few minutes to take care of this."
"Sure, go ahead. I’ll go pay."
"Take my credit card," I offered as I pulled out my wallet.
"Save it for Sephora!" She smiled and she walked off.
I dialed the house.
"Garrett residence this is Molly."
"Hey Molly it’s Layla." I love our babysitter. Cutest thing in the world. She’s currently interning at a fashion house out of Santa Monica and she often brings me samples. I then put an extra zero on her check. "How is your schedule looking for the afternoon?"
"Well Tyler just fell asleep and I was going to work on some sketches until you got home. Why? Has something come up?"
"Yeah it’s just a tiny personal matter that I have to deal with. Could you possibly watch Tyler for an extra hour or two? I’d be willing to pay you extra."
"Of course! I don’t mind."
"Terrific. Thanks, Molly. I'll be available if you need to call my cell."
"Sure thing. Bye Miss Garrett!"
"Bye Molly!" I love Molly. I searched through the address book on my phone. Dial. Connect. "Mister Waterhouse please? Thank you. Hi this is Layla Garrett calling you back. Yes my babysitter can watch my son for a few extra hours so I’ll be over shortly. Any idea how long this will take? Thank you so much. Buh bye now."
"Everything okay?" Jess asked as she returned to our table and picked up her blazer from her chair.
"Well, that’s an interesting question."
"Why’s that?"
"That was my lawyer. He wants to meet with me."
"Really? When?"
"Pretty much right now."
Her eyes got a bit bigger. "What’s the rush?"
"Opposing council is in his conference room."
"Layla are you being sued or something?"
"No, this opposing council is from a former court hearing."
Her face dropped. "Wait a minute."
"Yeah, and I guess Nick is with him. And they’re all waiting for me. Right now. So I’m thinking of getting a more cream-based blush. What do you think?"
"Layla..." she warned.
"I know, I know. I shouldn’t avoid it. I mean, obviously the compressed powder blush is so much better for your skin."
"Not what I meant."
"You ever notice how Sephora doesn’t have sales? What’s up with that?"
"Sweetie are you okay? You’re looking a bit pale."
"Because I ran out of blush this morning." You know that feeling when your eyes suddenly stick to one spot and you can’t move them and it’s like your whole face freezes along with your eyes? That pretty much described me at that moment.
"Maybe I should drive you there. You look like you might go into shock."
"No, I’m fine." Snap out of it, Layla! "What? God I’m such a flake. Okay. There’s only one adult way to handle this."
"I agree completely. I’ll drive you over there, you’ll walk into that conference room and sit down and hear whatever Nick and his lawyer have to say and..."
"No, no. I meant I should buy a new outfit."
"Excuse me, what?"
"I can’t let him see me like this!"
"You’re wearing a five-hundred dollar blouse."
I looked down at the silk cream blouse and shrugged. "It was on sale."
She rolled her eyes. I must admit that Doctor Jess Brown was less Doctor and more Jess when she wasn’t tucked within the four walls of her therapy sanctuary. "You want to go and buy a new outfit right now? When they’re waiting for you? Right now?"
"Doctor Brown, you once told me to be the victor, not the conquered. I’ve waited fourteen months for Nick Hudson. He can wait an hour for me."
A smile crept on her face and she nodded her head. "You’d look amazing in a blazer."
"You think so?"
"Make him sweat."
Awwww. "Thanks sweetie."
Jess pulled up in front of the glittering offices and idled the car. "Are you sure you can handle this?"
"Yes. I mean five-inch heels can be tricky if you have really weak ankles but.."
"Layla! Just be strong, okay?"
I took a deep breath. "Will you come in with me?"
She looked surprised. "To see Nick and the lawyers?"
"Yeah I don’t really feel like being by myself and I’d really like to have my best friend with me. Plus you're my therapist and can account for me if I lash out and throw a vase at him."
"Sure. Throw some change in the meter and we’ll do this together."
"Thanks. You’re awesome."
"Hey, that’s what I majored in."
I’d like to think our entrance was of movie-star quality. We certainly looked the part; Jess alone looked fabulous in her navy pinstripe blazer and skirt with a white camisole and flats. For me we had found a great black blazer with matching slacks with a long, skinny cut, a silky gold camisole and five inch gold metallic heels. We looked like a lesbian power couple. Fabulous.
Chanel glasses strategically covering my face, my arm linked supportively in Jess’ arm, we walked through the glossy foyer of my lawyer’s office. We made our way up to the ninth floor and I inwardly smiled as people’s heads turned.
The conference room was just a turn around the corner. I stopped Jess and lifted up my glasses to give her a look. "I can do this, right?"
"You’re Layla Garrett. You are a successful contributing editor to the world’s leading lifestyle magazine and you have a beautiful son named Tyler waiting for you at home. You have your life. Don’t let anyone take it from you or tell you otherwise."
I sighed and put the glasses back on my face. And then smiled. "Yes I am."
We turned the corner and I immediately spotted three figures sitting inside the glass-enclosed conference room. David Waterhouse looked up at me as we entered in the room, followed by Nick’s lawyer, and then Nick. With a shaved head.
"David Waterhouse, this is my friend and colleague Doctor Jess Brown. Jess, this is my lawyer, David Waterhouse."
"Pleasure to meet you," he offered with his hand. They shook hands and he gave her an extra smile. A flirtatious smile. Note to self, David Waterhouse is cute and Jess is single.
"Likewise. Miss Garrett asked me to join her in both a personal and professional manner this afternoon. I hope it’s okay if I observe."
"Of course, please have a seat." David held out chairs for both of us and then took a seat across from Nick’s lawyer. I removed my glasses, slid them in my purse and looked up at Nick.
He did not return my gaze.
"Mister Davis has requested this meeting on behalf of his client, Nick Hudson. Mister Davis, my client is here, proceed when you’re ready."
"Thank you, David." I didn’t like Larry Davis. There was something shifty about him. But Nick trusted him. "My client has exp
ressed his interest in filing for partial custodianship of his and Miss Garrett’s child."
What the hell?
"This meeting has been arranged, albeit last minute in order to accommodate Mister Hudson’s schedule, to come up with a suitable arrangement as decided by both parents for the custodianship of Tyler Garrett. We have a proposal drawn up for Miss Garrett to look over and make any changes she deems necessary according to her personal schedule of time."
As he blabbed on and on I felt my eyes drift onto my ex-husband in the most insulting and incredulous fashion I knew how. What was he doing? Trying to take custody of my son? I felt a hand at my elbow and looked to see Jess giving me a look. I couldn’t read it though. What did she want me to do? Remain calm? Speak up? Slap Nick silly and then decapitate him and hide his head in the trunk of my Lexus? What?
A packet of paper was pushed into my line of view. And there it was in bold print. Nick wanted custody of my son.
"Are there hidden cameras in this room?"
Everyone stopped talking and looked at me suddenly. Larry fat-ass Davis gave me a questioning look. "I beg your pardon?"
"Is this some sort of joke? Is Aston Kutcher going to come out any minute and tell me I’ve been had?"
"Layla," my lawyer started.
"Because surely Nick could not be trying to get custody of my son." This time Nick did look up at me.
"Our son," he corrected.
Oh. No. He. Didn’t. "Excuse me, Nick? Who’s been taking care of Tyler the last year? Me. Who’s been with him every day for the past year? Me. Where has his father been? I have no clue. And now you want to take my son away from me?"
"Miss Garrett this is only a matter of partial custody. You and Nick would each have an equal share of time with your son."
I stood up, completely infuriated. "My son is not a timeshare! And I’m not going to let this man take him from me and cart him all over the world like luggage. No way in hell. You should know better, Nick."
"We’d be willing to take this matter in front of a judge." Larry Davis was threatening me. "Mister Hudson has a very strong case for custodianship, even partial."
The Romance of Nick and Layla (Parts 1-3) Page 20