The phone rings, and I answer it quickly, without even checking the caller ID. If I had, I probably wouldn’t have answered at all.
“Hey, McFly.”
Shit.
“Hey,” I say, with such a bad attempt at enthusiasm I feel like a porn actor.
“Uh…about last night…”
“Yeah, about that James…I’ve got something I should tell—”
“No. I’m the one who should apologize—”
“Really, James, it’s my—”
“-I was too rough. Too forward. I know that. I just…I just thought you looked beautiful. I’m sorry you got the wrong impression. I don’t really know what happened myself. I think I had too much to drink – that cheap wine, right! Look, just give me a chance to show you that it’s not your body I’m interested in, Lizzie.”
Suddenly I’m wondering if James is the one with a problem. There’s innocent, and there’s tone-deaf. If James thinks that I ran out on him last night because he was too forward, I don’t see how I’ll ever explain how he’s wrong. And when you find yourself giving up on explaining how you feel to someone in a relationship, the chances are you’re going nowhere with it. I would know.
“You weren’t too rough, or forward, James,” I say, my voice strong and firm. “If anything you’re not forward enough, James. Can’t you tell what I wanted?”
James laughs a little goofily, but I’m in no mood for goofs right now.
“I’ve never been good at guessing what women want. No man is!”
I push aside the contradiction to that statement – his face is coming to mind all too frequently these days.
“I wanted- Wait, I needed you to fuck me. But you didn’t get it. We’re on different wavelengths, and it’s mostly my fault. I’ve been trying to become something I’m not. Something I thought I should be, just because I liked you.”
I can hear James breathing on the other end of the line, no doubt in shock at the word ‘fuck,’ still.
“I…didn’t know…”
“You’ll never know, James. You’re a sweet, kind, and gentle. And I’m…well, I’m not. And I probably never will be.” It’s good to get those words out, to finally be able to speak the truth, and I don’t regret it.
James gasps his surprise. “Are you saying…you’re telling me that it’s…over?”
“I’m telling you that, for me, it never really began. I’m sorry James. Goodbye.”
I hang the phone up and sit on the bed, gathering my breath and holding my head to stop it spinning. Well that’s one problem out of the way, I suppose.
Though I’m dressed like a smart, confident woman who knows what she’s doing, I get to work with a mind that’s doing more calculations and considering more perspectives than a war strategist. I get the intern to bring me a refill of my double espresso latte, make the two team members helping me recite exactly what they’re going to do, and start calling everyone involved with the event to confirm it at least three times. Yes I’m being a bitch, but if there’s one day I’m allowed to be, this is it. There will be time for apologies later.
I should be feeling worse about James—a lot worse—but the truth is, I have too much to deal with right now. And maybe some part of me is relieved that it’s over.
I’m so engrossed in beating my words-per-minute typing record as I send confirmation invitations that I almost don’t notice the sudden silence which appears over the usually-chattering office like a dark cloud. I ignore it, but when I start hearing hushed voices and stifled gasps I turn around, expecting to see some major disaster about to befall us outside the window.
Instead, everyone’s attention is on the office entrance, and the man standing there with his hands in his pockets: Jax.
I see about a half-dozen of the most confident girls in the office sprint as casually as they can in his direction. He flashes his smile, and says a few things they find way too funny. Somehow he manages to look away and catches sight of me. He points me out to the girls and almost has to fight his way out of them like they’re a group of muggers.
I stand up and walk towards him.
“What’s going on?” I say, in an aggressive whisper.
“I wanna talk to you,” Jax says, taking me by my arm and leading me out of the office. I consider yanking it back and telling him that we’ll have plenty of time to talk once I’m done being responsible for the biggest work event in my career, but the fact that everyone is looking at us, and the determined look in Jax’s eyes, makes me think otherwise.
We step outside into the hallway and I glance behind me at the women staring at us through the glass of the doors. I shuffle a little further down, out of sight, cross my arms, and look up at Jax with an expression of impatience I hope he understands.
“Now’s not the best time, Jax. Believe me, I’d like to talk too, but I have the event to arrange today, remember? If you think I’m ready for a quick bang in the bathroom, or a recreation of last night on the back seat of your car, then no. Just no. I’m being a bitch to everyone today. That includes you.”
I know I’m acting crazy, but it’s not just the work stress. It’s the guilt over throwing myself at him last night, the harsh way I broke up with James this morning, and the frustration at knowing, even now, that things could never work out between me and Jax, even if I am single again. Plus, that confident look on his face is just making me even more enraged.
Jax nods slowly and looks aside like I just slapped him. “Wow, you’re certainly doing a good job,” he says, with a smirk that shows he’s joking. “And Ferraris don’t have back seats. We’d have to do it on the hood.”
“Fair point,” I say, trying to smile a little, but completely not in the mood for his jokes. “But I’m getting back to work.” I push away my annoyance. Same Jax. Same lines. He never changes. I know I’m taking this way too seriously, but I can’t help it. This is not the time.
I turn away and start down the hall, but Jax grabs my arm and tugs me back toward him gently.
“Please, wait,” Jax says, with a heavy seriousness that’s so rare for him it sounds like he’s a different person. “I just came by to…I was thinking that…”
This is new. This is definitely new. As I stare up into his eyes, I realize that Jax almost looks like he’s trying to be honest. Or at least that’s what he’s projecting. I guess he’s got so many approaches that I haven’t even seen them all yet.
“Yes?”
“I wanted to say…that I like you,” he says, finally. He looks at me with an expression that’s pleading.
I can’t believe Jax pulled me out of work just to play games with my head. Does he actually expect me to fall for this, after all he’s taught me? What am I, his personal, on-call sex toy? Is this what I get for running into his arms last night?
I can’t stop the anger exploding out of me now. “Like me? You mean, you like me pressed up against a bathroom stall? Bent over a sink so you can see my tits in the mirror? Sucking your dick in that stupid car you drive around?”
He shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”
He looks genuinely taken aback, and suddenly I’m ashamed. Why am I jumping all over him for this?
“Oh God, I’m sorry,” I blurt. “Shit. I like you too, Jax. I do. But this is a bad time for me. Last night, it was a one-time thing, okay? Not a reinstatement of our previous…whatever. We’re cool. We’ll hang out. We’ll talk. It’ll be fine. Just don’t worry about it,” I say, taking a step back towards the office.
“No,” Jax says, not letting me go. “I mean I like you. A lot. I want you to be mine. I want us to date. I want you to be my girlfriend. No arrangements. Just us.”
For a split-second I see his eyes, and then I have to look down at the floor. They’re too compelling. Too deep. Too full of honesty. Too much like the kind of eyes I could fall in love with. God, he’s good at this. A master deceiver.
I put my hand on his chest. “Jax…I don’t know what this is, but I’m pretty sure
it’s a moment you’re gonna forget – no matter what I say.”
“It’s not, Lizzie. It’s for real.”
And then I realize: he’s telling the truth.
But it doesn’t matter, because this is Jax Wilder. I know exactly what he has to offer me, and it’s not enough. Relationships are about more than hot sex and goofing around, and this man can’t give me what I need. I’d be a fool to believe otherwise.
I lean toward him, lowering my voice. “Are you really going to make me do this? Are you really going to make me have to explain to you the thousands of reasons why that wouldn’t work?”
Jax shakes his head and his jaw clenches, but his eyes are still wide and imploring, like a man pleading his case after the verdict. “We get along so great. We understand each other. How can you not admit that? The sex is out of this world, as good as it gets – believe me, I should know - but that’s not even what I’m talking about. There’s something real here, and I don’t wanna lose it.”
I wish I could just agree with him, that we could just run off into the sunset together, but I’m not going to let myself jump into another doomed relationship. I know what I need, and I won’t settle for anything less. Even if it comes in an incredibly hot, well-hung package. “Give me your phone.”
Jax rocks his head back like he’s avoiding a punch. “What? Why do you want my phone?”
I hold out my hand. “You wanna date me? Give me your phone.”
Slowly, with a confused look on his face, he pulls out his phone and puts it into my hand.
“Ok,” I say, “let’s see. Wow. I didn’t even know phones could hold that many contacts. Ah! ‘Tuesday Blonde’ – do you fuck her every Tuesday, or does this just mean you met her on a Tuesday?”
Jax shuffles on his feet like a schoolboy caught smoking pot. “She’s in the bar every Tuesday.”
“‘Jelena,’ parentheses, ‘bondage’ – pretty clear, that one. ‘Michelle Toesucker.’ Not bad. ‘Squirty Suzanna.’ Well, that’s always good to know. ‘Tight Slim Ass’ – not even a name for her, huh? ‘Lana,’ parentheses, ‘Batman’?”
Jax goes red and shuffles around a little more. “She liked me to…ah…pretend to be Batman.”
“Wow. And it goes on. ‘Black supermodel 4.’ ‘Asian dancer 2.’ Oh, I like how you spelled ‘Deborah’ with two ‘d’s – I doubt that’s a mistake. ‘Kalani Ass Birthmark’ – see, now, I like how even a name like that isn’t quite enough to remem—”
“Ok I get it,” Jax says, almost physically in pain at the embarrassment.
I laugh a little—even I can’t stand to see Jax squirming.
“Look, this is my point. When was the last time you were monogamous, Jax?”
There’s a long pause which says everything. “I don’t remember.”
“Because you probably never have been.”
Jax stops squirming and looks me dead in the eye. I’d like to look at the floor again, but he’s on full tractor-beam.
He takes a breath. “I know all of this. I know that it’s scary. I know you’re afraid you’ll get hurt. But I also know that you feel something for me, too. I know that every impulse in my body is towards you. I know that you’ve already changed me, and that as much as I try,” he grabs the phone from my hand and waves it, “I can’t go back to this. The past and the future are entirely different things, Lizzie.”
He looks at the phone in his hand and then slams it to the ground, shattering the screen. As if it would change anything.
I close my eyes. Partly because I can’t look back at him, and partly because I’m getting dangerously close to crying.
“Just because you know those things, Jax, it doesn’t mean this would work.”
“But time will tell, so give me a chance. Please.”
I’m shaking my head, trying to block out the sound of his voice. “I just can’t believe you, Jax. I’m sorry. I know it’ll hurt me – it already does-”
“Lizzie!” comes the shrill, female voice from the entrance doors. Linda steps into the hallway with a worried expression that breaks into a smiling one when she sees Jax. “Hey,” she calls to him with way too much girlishness for a woman her age, before putting on her stern mask again and walking towards me.
“Just give us a moment, would you Linda?” I say, trying to hide the shake in my voice.
“No can do, honey. Even your boyfriend isn’t more important this.” She notices the cell phone pieces shattered on the tile and tsks at Jax. “I hope you got the insurance on that thing.” She turns back to me. “Elizabeth, now.”
I look at her with frustration. “What? What is it?”
“It’s our glamorous, A-list Hollywood celebrity; the one that the wives of the billionaires who will be attending want to date. He’s just checked himself into rehab.”
“Right after the event? We still have him showing up, right?”
Linda shakes her head. “No. Apparently he’s been in there since this morning, and his agent just scraped up enough decency to tell us three minutes ago.”
I feel the blood drain out of my face and my stomach hit the floor. “Fuck!”
“Exactly. So what do you want me to do?” Linda asks. “We need someone to take his place, and we need them in about five hours’ time.”
I close my eyes tight, hoping that if I concentrate hard enough I can turn back time, or that maybe when I open them this will all turn out to be a dream.
“Leave it to me.”
Jax’s voice breaks through the black void I’ve fallen into like the world’s longest olive branch.
“You can find us a famous Hollywood actor in five hours?” I ask, slowly.
“I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but I’ll do it.”
I grab him by the lapels, knowing my voice is coming out crazy. “Please, Jax. Don’t mess with me. This is my career. This is my life on the line. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Jax’s eyes stare at me like they’ve noticed something moving in a corner of my soul.
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
Chapter 9
Jax
My heart’s thumping like a heavy metal bass drum. Thin wires of electric energy feel like they’re shooting through my limbs. I run down the stairs of Lizzie’s work building, ignoring the calls from random women trying to bump into me, and sprint outside. When I reach my car I jump in, put my hands on the wheel, and breathe deeply.
A Hollywood star. Available and willing to be auctioned off tonight. Of all the things that I expected my relationship with Lizzie could have ended up depending on, my networking abilities are not one of them. To be honest, it would have been easy if the A-lister didn’t have to be male.
I used to think five hours was a long time – it’s usually around the same amount of time most of my relationships last, and you can fit a lot into five hours if you know what you’re doing – but when you’re trying to find, meet, and arrange to take a large slice of a hotshot actor’s time and energy, it feels like every minute counts.
I rack my brains trying to think of someone, pressing my fingers against my temples as if squeezing the thoughts out. This is LA, and I’ve fucked a pretty big percentage of the women here. There has to be a connection somewhere. I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve heard girls say things like they slept with some guy from a TV show, or that they’re related to the actor from a hit movie. The problem with LA, though, is that it’s also full of bullshitters.
I burn rubber to the nearest Apple store and despite the long line at the genius bar, I manage to get a brand new phone in my hands in less than twenty minutes (my contacts are backed up, but that doesn’t make my phone-smashing declaration of good intentions to Lizzie any less meaningful).
As I walk out the door, I pull out the new phone and start scrolling through names, hoping one of them will jog my memory, but it just reminds me of how disappointed Lizzie was to find all these numbers, and I start thinking about what she’ll do if I let her
down. Would she just appreciate the effort? Would she even care if I help her out? What if she finds a better star herself? Maybe I should just think about how I’m gonna apologize and smooth it over. Shit, maybe I just need to forget about Lizzie anyway, and this way – the quick, painless way – is best. Yeah, right.
Fuck, Jax, focus!
Automatically, I start dialing Brando’s number.
“Yo, dude,” he says.
“Listen, Brando. I really need your help.”
I hear soft kisses in the background and I know it’s Tasha – even her kisses sound accented.
“If it involves me getting out of bed and leaving this sexy bitch beside me you’re shit outta luck, dude,” he replies, and I can hear him grinning.
“I’m serious. I really need some help here, buddy.”
Brando finally hears the desperation in my voice and I hear him shove Tasha aside.
“What’s up?”
“I need a top Hollywood actor – someone good-looking, someone who ladies like – and I need him to attend a charity event in about five hours. To get auctioned off for a date.”
“What the fuck…”
“I’ll explain later, right now I just need to get this figured out. Do you know anyone?”
I can almost hear the rusty gears in Brando’s head turning.
“I can’t think of anyone off the top of my head. I know a few actresses…”
“No. It has to be a guy. He has to be good-looking, and he has to be at the event that’s happening tonight. In five hours. I just need a connection, a lead, anything.”
“Ok, ok. Chill, dude. Let me make a few phone calls and I’ll get back to you.”
I hang up and instantly call Luce. When I get in the Testarossa, it switches the call over to Bluetooth, and I hear her pick up as I squeal out into the LA traffic.
“Hey Jax. You thinking of coming around any time today? The Dentons are here.”
“I can’t. But I need a really big favor.”
“Uh oh.”
“The guy we were gonna auction off tonight, the hot shot actor? He bailed out. We need a replacement – fast.”
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