How to Fall

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How to Fall Page 16

by Rebecca Brooks


  “There’s a rainforest in the middle of the city. The middle! How can that be?”

  Blake laughed. “Sounds like you’ve been converted.”

  “I’m with Chris. Remind me why I’m not moving here?”

  “Because you agree with Jamie that sometimes it’s nice to go home.”

  “I thought we weren’t talking about anything having to do with the h-word,” she reminded him with a grin.

  “Right, you caught me. I have no reason whatsoever why you shouldn’t move to Rio.”

  “Except I don’t speak Portuguese.”

  “You can learn.”

  “And I probably couldn’t get a job.”

  “Everyone needs math teachers.”

  “If I’m doing the same job somewhere else, isn’t it just my same life transplanted?” she asked, gazing up at the impressive statue above them.

  “I have no idea what the answer to that is. All I know is that it doesn’t snow here.”

  “That’s a good enough incentive for me. What about in Sydney?”

  “Coldest temperatures we get are in July, where sometimes it’s all the way down to eight. I don’t know what that is in Fahrenheit, though.”

  “About forty-six,” Julia said, doing the quick computation in her head. The thought made her laugh out loud. Forties in Chicago in the dead of winter would be considered downright balmy.

  “What, that doesn’t count as cold to you hearty Chicagoans?”

  “Sorry, but you’re a total wuss.”

  “Sometimes it even snows!”

  “Yeah, like it snows in Florida and everyone freaks out from a dusting.”

  “In Brazil when it drops into the seventies, everyone reaches for a sweater.”

  “That’s what I’m saying. Sounds like a good life to me.”

  “Okay, you teach math while Chris opens up an inn.”

  “What about poor Jamie?” she asked.

  “He’ll love being the house boy.”

  “And you?” she laughed before catching herself at her presumption that he’d fit into their little foursome.

  But it was a game, a silly fantasy to joke about as the bright sun and blue sky and endless ocean made her giddy with the thrill of so much to take in. Blake thought for a moment and then declared that he’d be the one writing the screenplay about their perfect existence. “Or else some reality show where we all move to paradise and then drive each other crazy.”

  Julia laughed. “That’s probably more realistic.” She paused, then decided to go for it. What did she have to lose? “You don’t think there’s something, I don’t know, weird between Jamie and Chris?”

  They were standing leaning over a railing under the statue, looking out over the view. Blake gave her a puzzled frown. “What do you mean, weird?”

  Julia shrugged, not sure if she should have brought it up. She hardly knew them and it seemed like Blake and Jamie had become pretty good friends. She didn’t want to say anything wrong or step on any toes. “I don’t know, it’s probably nothing,” she backpedaled, trying to be conciliatory.

  “No, no, I’m not offended. Tell me what you mean.”

  “It just seemed like… I mean, even with the way Chris was joking about moving to Brazil, or wanting to keep traveling forever. Like on some level, she really meant it.”

  Blake shook his head. “I don’t think so. She and Jamie have been talking about how they’re going back to Melbourne and getting married.”

  Somehow, the news that they were preparing to seal the deal made Julia all the more certain that something was up. Who joked about running away before getting married…unless some part of them was itching to go?

  “And yet she’s talking about opening an inn with Lukas, while Jamie is talking about how he’s ready to go home. To me it seemed a little off.”

  “She’s definitely joking. They have such a good thing going on.”

  “I guess,” Julia said reluctantly. “I don’t know if it’s something I’d joke about, but I suppose everyone’s different. Anyway, where do you want to go next?”

  They let the conversation slide, moving on to more discussions about the city they were in and the cities they lived in as they walked down from the mountain, winding through the steaming rainforest before they emerged on the street below. It was a surprise to be back on concrete, like they’d passed through a portal from a completely different world. It wasn’t long before they were swept up again in the surge and swell of the moving city, hopping a cab to a restaurant in Julia’s guidebook for a late lunch.

  But she couldn’t stop thinking about their conversation. She wasn’t as certain about Chris and Jamie as Blake seemed to be. Or at least as he wanted to be. Had he really believed what he’d said? Or did he want to believe that their relationship—or any relationship—could last?

  She couldn’t tell, but there was no way she’d ask. It wasn’t like they were in the relationship business themselves. Besides, it was no use dwelling on things that didn’t concern her when she had such a perfect travel companion. They rested when they wanted to rest, walked when they wanted to walk, and poked in and out of little stores along the avenues. They tried to guess all the different fruits for sale and bought roasted corn and grilled meats and cheese on the streets to try everything they could. When was the last time she’d laughed this hard? When was the last time she’d had this much fun? Not thinking about work, free of any obligations, not feeling like she had to worry about anyone else. She felt as liberated as the ocean, its one obligation to keep exploring the endless shore.

  If only, she thought to herself as they strolled hand in hand along the avenues. If only it didn’t all have to end.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was late afternoon by the time they walked back in the direction of Copacabana Beach. When they passed a small internet café, Julia paused. “I know there’s no talking about home,” she said, “but it’d be nice to let some people know I’m still alive.”

  Blake reassured her that they were allowed to break the rules for good things—like rubbing it in everyone’s faces that they were in eighty-five degree weather with a constant ocean breeze, alternating between the rainforest and the beach.

  He didn’t mind stopping by the café, either. It was probably a good idea to check in with Jed Anderson, the top writer working for him, about new material for the show and anything that might have come up in his absence. He was supposed to be shaping the arc of the next season, ramping up the dramatic tension between Celia and Reese. But thinking about them made him think about the actors that played them, and focusing on Kelley and Liam certainly wasn’t how he wanted to spend his time away. Psychological torture was more like it. He’d been trying to limit his computer access as a result, checking in with his mom and a few friends when he had the chance but keeping his distance from work. With Julia now at the forefront at his thoughts, it seemed a little less awful to open up his email and see what was going on with the show.

  The café was small, an entryway on the first floor of a larger building, and there was only one computer open in the line of units with dividers separating each cube. Blake paid for an hour and motioned for Julia to get started. He’d take whatever time was left. It didn’t look like any of the boys engaged in a series of shoot ’em up computer games at the terminals were leaving anytime soon.

  Julia settled into her kiosk, a frown of concentration stealing over her face as soon as the mouse was in her hand. Blake decided to wait outside to escape the dark confines of the café and watch the street life go by. He bought a cafezinho, a little cup of coffee from a street vendor so small it was just a few cents for even fewer sips, and strolled around the block admiring how even from the street, down in the belly of the city, he still felt nestled in the mountains as flashes of green peeked between the buildings every time he turned.

  Would Julia tell her friends about him? He had no idea what to expect. Not that he’d ever know what she said in her emails, but he couldn’t help
feeling curious. Would she say that she was alone? Had met a friend? Was with someone?

  That strange and ambiguous preposition could cover all the bases from thoughtless fuck to friend with benefits to actual relationship material.

  So which one was he?

  Blake sipped the scalding coffee, savoring the bitter bite on his tongue. It wasn’t exactly pleasant to imagine Julia tossing him off to the side with a few quick strokes of the keyboard, either by gossiping about him with her friends or else neglecting to mention him altogether.

  But she’d given no sign that this was anything more than the most casual of flings. It wasn’t a one-night stand, but it wasn’t much more than that, either. Just a few days in each other’s company before the real world called and they went back to their regular lives. She was giving him exactly what he’d said he wanted: everything, and with no strings attached.

  He’d already shown that his plans could be changed. If she wasn’t going to reveal what she thought about what would happen on January first when she boarded that plane for Chicago, then he wouldn’t get into it, either.

  Wasn’t that the whole point of the prohibition against speaking about home? Neither of them wanted to think about the weather, the work, the demands pressing on them. Right now they were supposed to be having fun.

  And they were—the most Blake could remember having in ages. A few days with Julia had already sent his mind into overdrive. He wasn’t thinking about The Everlastings like he should have been, but about new show ideas, new characters, new possibilities for the future and his career. The ideas were little wispy things, no more substantial than the clouds streaking over the bay. But if he watched them, worked on them, reached for them long enough, they would eventually turn solid in his mind. That’s when he’d be able to grab hold.

  Somehow he’d thought that The Everlastings was going to be his one show, the project he and Kelley and Liam would work on until…well, he hadn’t been able to fathom a future that didn’t have the three of them working together. His best friend and his girlfriend. His team.

  Now, though, he was having the first inklings that there could be a different future for him. He could create a new series, and with more experience under his belt, it might even be better than the first. There was no reason to think he couldn’t do it again, especially while he still had major network support. He crushed the paper coffee cup in his palm, feet tapping on the sidewalk like they did when he was excited about an idea and couldn’t keep still. He’d write to Anderson and ask what was up with The Everlastings. He wouldn’t talk about any other projects. But he’d keep his mind open, waiting for whatever new things might come.

  He walked quickly, checking his watch. When he popped his head into the café Julia was still fixated on the computer, typing furiously and stopping every now and then to click through something on the screen. So he left, walked around the block in the other direction, and when he came back in, she finally looked up.

  “I’m done,” she said, closing out the browser and getting up so he could take her seat.

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to rush you.”

  “Nope, that was perfect. I got in an email to my parents letting them know I haven’t been eaten by sharks and told Danny I was safe, and then Liz was online so we chatted for a little while she was at work.”

  Blake nodded like these names meant something to him. Who the hell was Danny? If she had a boyfriend back home, he’d be damned… There was nothing in their undiscussed arrangement that said they were available, but the thought that she might not be as free as she appeared sent daggers into his gut.

  Julia seemed to read something on his face and laughed. “Sorry, you have no idea who I’m talking about. My best friend, Liz, her brother Danny. She constantly wants to have fun; he’s the one worrying all the time. They’re the ones who’ll come peel my body off the floor of my apartment if I choke on a pretzel and die alone.”

  “That’s a pleasant thought.”

  “What else are friends for? All right, I’ll leave you to it. Do you want me to pay for some more time for you, since I took up so much of it?”

  Blake shook his head, sure he wouldn’t need more than a few minutes to bring himself up to date on the news from the other side of the globe and share some quick thoughts with Anderson. He watched her wave to the kid behind the counter and step out of the café. Then he brought his eyes back to the screen before him, trying to shake off the mental image of her long legs in her sundress as she strode out the door. Her best friend and her best friend’s brother? That didn’t sound like a boyfriend. He permitted himself one small exhale of relief and then berated himself for being so paranoid. She hadn’t said she wanted anything from him. So he should stop acting like he had something to give.

  Blake fired up his email, scrolled through a few messages from work, and sent back a quick note to a group of friends wondering where on earth he was since his last message, from before he’d arrived at the falls. He checked the news and looked up TV ratings in Sydney and any major headlines about his show. Then he scanned through a few articles with the expected smattering of fluff on Australia’s new “it” couple, gorgeous co-stars in love on screen and then in real life—and quickly clicked back to his email before he could torture himself anymore. He wanted to let his mom know he was in Rio until the first, even if he wouldn’t tell her why.

  But when he started asking how the dogs were doing, it occurred to him that he hadn’t finished reading one of the previous articles to make sure there was no mention of him. He knew it was narcissistic to check, but actually the thought that he might have faded into silence while Kelley and Liam took center stage in the tabloids came as a welcome relief. If he wasn’t being talked about anymore as the jilted sidekick, then maybe he could get back to his life, get back to his work, and finally leave the whole mess behind.

  He clicked on the history button to find the article. That was when his hand stopped cold.

  Under his email and the websites he’d checked since logging on, there was a whole slew of websites about him. One after another: Joshua Blake Williams. The Everlastings. She’d even searched his full name.

  His passport.

  He’d taken hers and then she’d grabbed his in return. His name wasn’t that unusual but if she put in the whole thing and then something about Sydney and TV, it wouldn’t be hard for the search to reward her. J.B. Williams. His old life splashed across the screen.

  He had no privacy on the net. Everything about him was known. She’d seen it all—the shit town where he’d grown up, the factory where his mom had worked until he could afford for her to quit. Jesus, there was even stuff about the writing scholarships he’d won. Why couldn’t she have just asked?

  No talking about home. He didn’t even know the names of her best friends, and now she knew every single thing about him. He closed the browser quickly, his heart hammering in his chest, palms sweaty on the keyboard despite the AC. He sat there for a minute, watching the clock run down, and then he got up and left.

  He stormed across the street, fists deep in his pockets, his mind churning. What the hell had she been looking for? Did she want to know what was wrong with him, why he’d left everything behind to go hang out in a hostel in the middle of nowhere for as long as he possibly could? Had she not believed him about the show? Did she want proof that he was famous? What must she have thought when she discovered everything he was famous for?

  Because it wasn’t only the show that had made him a household name in his homeland. It was the screw-up. And she had seen that, too. It was impossible to Google him and not find out. His name was permanently aligned with Kelley Fielding, for better or worse. Until the internet exploded.

  Blake stopped suddenly in the middle of the street, heart racing, and realized he had no idea where he was going. She was probably back at the café waiting for him. A cab slammed on its horn, and he jumped out of the way, jogging to the other side of the street. Think. He had to think.
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br />   He’d gone into the café and seen her after she’d looked up that stuff about him, and she hadn’t been weird. Or else he’d been missing the signs because he hadn’t known to look.

  He ran a hand through his hair. No, she hadn’t been weird at all. He felt his breathing start to slow. He looked up at the buildings, at the mountains behind. Down the street. Out toward the water.

  What was he afraid of—that she’d leave him? They weren’t even together.

  He bought a bottle of water, drank it quickly, and walked back to the café, his heart slowly returning to normal even though he still had no idea what to think.

  She was standing outside, leaning against the side of the building, when he approached. All long limbs and flowing hair, red dress and dark sunglasses, her face lighting up as soon as she saw he was there.

  “You do everything you needed to get done?” she asked, hooking her arm through his as they took off down the street.

  “Yeah,” he said. And then some. “I had a little extra time so I went to get some water.”

  “It was good to check in with everyone, but it’s not like I want to spend all day in there. It’s so beautiful outside, don’t you think?”

  He nodded, on autopilot, and let her slip her hand in his as they walked back toward their hotel. If she was thinking anything behind that smile and those dark eyes, he had no idea. If he hadn’t unintentionally found out what she’d really been doing online, he’d have had no clue that she now knew so much more about him.

  He didn’t know if her pretend calm made him feel better, or worse. Not only did she not trust him, but she didn’t even care about what she’d found.

  Then again, maybe if you were having a run-of-the-mill fling, you didn’t much care about the past. Or the future. There was no way he could confront her—not when they didn’t owe each other a thing.

  Blake tried to push his discomfort aside. Dinner. That was all he needed to worry about. That was all they could really expect from each other. No plans beyond the next meal. He exhaled, trying to make himself relax.

 

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