“You’ve talked a lot about Jameson in each of our sessions. Tell me why you think you hate him so much.”
I pause. “I’m not sure that it matters now.”
“I disagree. If Jameson is always around, getting to the source of your feelings for him may help you move on.”
“Well, that’s just it. He’s not around anymore, and he won’t be coming back.”
“What do you mean? I thought, you just said he was over last Friday and how he helped you relax.”
“And then I told him he needed to leave. I told him he was one of the sources of my anxiety and it was best if we avoided each other.”
Laura’s silent, her face expressionless as she takes in what I’ve just said.
Meanwhile, I go back to her original question. Why do I think I hate Jameson?
When I was five, and my parents went away for a few days for the first time that I could remember. I had a nightmare, and only Jameson heard me. Seven years old, and he came into the room and sat by my bed, holding my hand, the entire night. Jameson snuck out early the next morning before his parents got out of bed. Later that day, he buried my headless Barbies in the backyard.
At eight, one of the mean kids at school stole my favorite stuffed animal. Jameson rescued Mousey and gave my stuffie a bath to clean her up, and returned my stuffy to me in an entirely different color. I know now it wasn’t all his fault. Mousey wasn’t made to take baths, and the dye on her ran. Eight year old me, though he did it on purpose and hated him for it.
On the way to his house after school when I was thirteen, and my parents were out of town again, my period arrived unexpectedly. Jameson gave me his sweatshirt to tie around the back of my pants. I was too embarrassed to say anything to his mom or ask for help, seemingly reading my mind, Jameson tugged me inside the corner drug store, told me to pick out what I needed then shewed me out the door while he paid for everything. When he came out, he slipped it all in my bookbag so no one would see it. I found a chocolate bar in the bag when we got back to his house.
I tried to thank him for it, and he told me to quit PMSing.
My freshman year at college, I had a panic attack on the first day. Hid in my dorm room and called...you guessed it, Jameson. He dropped everything he was doing and came to my rescue with a bottle of water, a warm hug, and the reminder to just breathe. He spent the entire semester reading every self-help book on panic attacks that he could find and in many ways became my pseudo-therapist.
I’m sure there were several other events between thirteen and twenty-two when Jameson tried to keep me from driving drunk after a bad break up. He followed behind me in his car, took me home when I did a little off-roading in my dad’s car and had the damn thing repaired before my parents came back home. That one, I’m still not sure he'd let me live down. Not that I blame him.
Still, I hated him.
“Because he knows too much,” I blurt out. “That’s why I hate him. He’s seen me at my absolute lowest.” I finally confess. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life depending on him to be my rock. For twenty-eight years now I did that with my dad and look where that got me.”
“Oh, Olivia. We’re talking two different people and two different relationships here.”
“Jameson doesn’t deserve to have to care for me the rest of his life.”
“Care for you how?” Laura questions.
“Like this. Picking me up when I’m down. And what if later on, I get cancer. He’ll have to care for me then too.”
“He’s been the one constant, outside of your parents. I don’t think he’s going anywhere anytime soon,” Laura offers.
“For one thing, they all do. Every boyfriend had run away when shit got tough. For another thing, Jameson isn’t coming back this time. I pushed too hard, and I know it.”
“Now, we’re making progress. I knew there was more to the story then you simply hate Jameson. Others have hurt you, and you’re afraid he will too. So it’s easier not to give him a chance.”
“Laura, I know this is why you get paid the big bucks, but I don’t like it when you’re right.”
Laura laughs, “It’s my job to call it as I see it, Olivia, and I think you’re being unfair to Jameson.”
“Aren’t we here to fix my anxiety?” I groan and roll my eyes like a teenager.
“It all ties together, especially with the role Jameson has played in your anxiety in the past. And blaming him for your anxiety wasn’t fair or productive. Even if I thought those words were true, Olivia, haven’t we talked about not avoiding things that trigger the anxiety but rather working through them?”
I really hate it when she’s right. “What am I supposed to do? Everyone I let in walks away or hurts me.” I question out loud. “The thought of being in a relationship gives me anxiety.”
“To overcome it, sometimes you have to face those fears. Avoidance won’t solve anything.”
“So you’re saying, I should date Jameson?”
“I’m saying that putting yourself out there can be healing. What’s the harm in seeing where things go if you take him out of the enemy zone? But first, I think you’re going to have to mend that fence with him.”
Laura lets me change the subject, this time, and a short while later, I’m walking out of her office with another appointment for a week from now. I feel raw, exposed, and exhausted but I feel a little lighter, hopeful too.
Chapter 16
Jameson
There isn’t a damn thing for me to do tonight. Harley’s working this evening, Liv made sure she nailed the door shut between her and I. I decided I’d put in some overtime down at The Mason Center site. A couple of the guys on the crew offered to stay behind and work on some stuff with me, pushing us even further ahead of schedule. Soon, I’ll be done with this place and moving on to the next project. A project far away from New York City and Olivia Hawthorne.
I promised her I planned to stay, but that was when I thought I had something here worth waiting for. Knowing I’m the source of some of her anxiety? I sure as hell won’t be sticking around.
By nine o’clock, I finally decide that I’ve worked these guys, and myself, hard enough for one day. “Alright, let’s call it quits. The rest of this will be here on Monday.”
The guys all hustle and clean up the job site.
“You working tomorrow?” Aiden asks.
“I might stop over and see what else I can work on. Not sure yet.” I shrug.
“Call if you do, I don’t have any plans.” He offers. Aiden’s one of the single guys on the crew, and he’s addicted to building things as much as I am.
“Sure. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”
It’s almost ten when I finally walk into the lobby of 425 Madison. I’m waiting for the elevator when it dings. The doors open, Jake and a few of the other guys I recognize from around the building step off.
“Hey, Jameson, right?” Jake tips his head and offers his hand.
“Yeah, how’s it going, Jake?”
“Not too bad. We’re heading to the liquor store, going to hang out on the deck tonight. You should join us.” Jake offers. “Pizza, beer, video games on the outdoor screen.”
“You know, that sounds like a good idea,” I pull out my wallet and a few bills. I could use a distraction. “Would one of you mind grabbing a six pack of Corona for me? Put the rest toward pizza. I’ll head upstairs and change out my work clothes then meet you on the roof.”
Jake takes my cash and nods, “Sure thing. Do you want anything specific on your pizza?”
“Nah, I’ll eat whatever.”
“Cool, we’ll catch you in a bit.”
I get on the elevator and press the button for the fifth floor, thankful that there are no other stops on the way up. It dings on my floor, the doors open and I step off, taking the left turn toward my apartment. The urge to keep going and walk past my door, to Liv’s is strong, but I made myself a promise. I’m letting her go.
Shaking my head, I
open up my apartment door instead and make a beeline for the shower to wash away today’s hard work.
A six pack of beer and half a pizza later, I’m feeling pretty relaxed. Jake and his friends are fun to hang around with, all of us have taken turns playing the latest Call of Duty on the deck’s big screen while trash talking.
We make it to almost midnight before Jake’s girl, and a few of the other’s girlfriends show up and crash the party. No one seems to mind, except for me and the ache in my chest. I wish Liv were here. I wish she were mine. That she was willing to take a chance on us, but more importantly, I want her to see herself the way I do.
With my mood dampening and all the lovebirds pairing off, I can’t think of a better excuse to get out of here. Clapping Jake on the back, I say my goodbyes and thank the guys for letting me hang with them tonight before taking my sullen ass back to my apartment.
It takes all of my restraint, not to check on Liv when I get back on the fifth floor. It would be so easy to knock on her door and tell her that I’m in love with her. That I’ve loved her for a long time. In my mind, I know it’s no use. My heart doesn’t want to listen.
I pause outside her door and touch a hand to the cold surface like it will somehow connect me to the woman inside.
“Whoa. Dude. What are you doing?” I hear the elevator ding, and Harley’s voice startles me.
“Nothing,” I shake my head and step back.
“Yeah, nothing,” he steps up beside me and shoves me toward our apartment. “Let’s go before you do something stupid.”
I huff. “Like telling her, I love her?”
“Jesus Christ, how much have you had to drink?” He questions.
“Not enough. That’s for sure.”
Harley opens the apartment door, ushering me inside. “I’m going to disagree with you. Drinking isn’t going to solve anything either.”
“Harley, it was six beers. I’m hardly drunk. Just delusional.”
“You might be right, there.” He grabs two bottles of water from the fridge and tosses me one. “When are you going to give up on her, man? Haven’t you had enough rejection?”
“Would you give up on the woman you love?”
Harley looks at me as if I’ve grown two heads. “If she treated me like shit? Pushed me away and said I made her miserable? Uh, yeah. I did; remember?”
I wince. He’s right. And I’m an asshole friend for bringing it up. “Shelia is nothing like Olivia.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But a man has got to know when to cut his losses. Trust me.”
“It’ll be better when I finish this job and get the hell away from here. Though I feel bad leaving you without a roommate.”
“Shit. Don’t worry about me. It’s been nice having you, and you’re not going anywhere any time soon. Maybe I’ll find a new roommate, or I’ll go back to living alone. You know, walking around naked, scratching my balls whenever I want,” Harley chuckles.
“And now that you’ve planted that image in my head, I’m going the fuck to bed. After I bleach my brain.”
Chapter 17
Olivia
Eight weeks later…
He’s not here.
The Mason Center’s public opening is today. And Jameson is not here.
There’s still time.
We have twenty minutes before local news cameras start rolling and the doors open. Leo Eastman is walking around greeting everyone and thanking the members of the construction crew that did show up, but there’s still no Jameson.
He knew how important this was to me and he saw it through until the end. Even after I treated him like absolute shit. But according to Harley, the minute he handed over the keys to Leo, he was gone. Moving on to the next project down in North Carolina.
I hoped that even though I don’t deserve his grace, that he would have shown up today anyway. Especially knowing how heartbroken I was about my dad missing out on this.
To add insult to injury, my mother couldn’t be bothered to attend either. It turns out she and Uncle Devin are off on their honeymoon. I shouldn’t be surprised. My mother barely let my dad’s body turn cold before she hopped into bed with his brother. She claims they’ve always been in love, but Devin was too stupid to claim her back then. Either way, it repulses me.
Her lack of support for me and this project was the last straw. Between that and her demands that I come home and financially support her, I’ve had enough.
Maybe I should look at today as a new beginning. Next week, there will be students filling these classrooms. Children of all ages will be walking in and out of this place, gaining access to the services that they desperately need to thrive. And I’ll be at the helm of it all with a wonderful team that the board has worked hard to put together with my guidance.
I set my sights on something and made it happen. I should be proud right now. Instead, I feel heartbroken and sad.
“Olivia, are you ready?” Leo steps over to me and smiles. “This is it, your time to shine.”
Taking a deep breath, I plaster on my best smile, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
We use the employee entrance and walk outside, making our way around to the front of the building. Leo steps up to the podium with his wife, my friend and former coworker - Gwen, by his side and quiets the crowd.
Admittedly, I listen as he gives his speech including his praise for my vision. When he’s finished, he turns to me and asks if I’ll say a few words. I was prepared for this. Now? I’m not so sure.
My therapist’s voice rings out in my head. “Deep breath. Stay in the moment. There’s no immediate danger.”
I’ve put a lot of work into overcoming my anxiety. It’s not been easy, and there are still days, or moments, that I struggle with. Yet, I’m still here. And I am thriving.
With the same fake smile on my face, I step up and begin to speak. “Thank you all for coming out to show your support today. I am so grateful for the opportunity to bring something like The Mason Center to the community. I believe in our mission and the people we serve.” Looking over my shoulder, I smile at the Eastmans. “And to Leo Eastman for being a driving force in this project. For taking a risk and helping me bring this to life. He sought out the perfect team of architects and builders to get the job done and done right.”
The crowd applauds as I step back. Leo takes over once more to direct everyone to the main entrance. All of the board members gather round, and the volunteers hand Leo and myself each a pair of gigantic scissors. Camera’s flash as the crowd counts down and we cut the ribbon.
The staff inside the building push open the doors, and we move back out of the way, letting people in. Gwen hugs her husband and then rushes over to hug me.
“I am so proud of you, girl. This place is just amazing. I knew there was something special about you.”
“Thanks, Gwen. That means a lot.”
Channeling my inner social butterfly, that doesn’t exist, I float around The Mason Center and make small talk. Taking time to greet familiar faces and thank everyone for coming. I’ve almost made my way back to the reception area when I spot Harley.
He’s not happy to be here, I can tell. I only hope that he’s not somehow bringing bad news about Jameson.
“Harley. Thank you for stopping by.”
He grunts. “Somewhere we can talk for five seconds?”
“Sure,” I nod and direct him to my office. “Is everything okay?” I ask once we’re out of the public eye.
“Far as I know. Jameson asked me to stop by and deliver this,” he holds out an envelope. “You know I’m not exactly your biggest fan when it comes to my buddy, but when a friend asks for a favor, I do what I can.”
I could have done without his dig. Well deserved or not. I don’t tell him that though. “I understand. And I don’t blame you for hating me.”
“Never said I hate you,” Harley tells me, “I said, I don’t like what you’ve done to my friend. Big difference. I want to see him happy. Not being roped around by a w
oman who can’t make up her mind.”
I can’t control others, but I can control how I react, I tell myself. I’m not about to let Harley’s sour attitude ruin today. I’m already carrying my own emotions; I won’t allow him to make it worse.
“Got it loud and clear. I don’t know what Jameson has or hasn’t told you, and at this point, I don’t care. It’s nice that he’s got people looking out for him. But your judgment of me is way off base.”
“That’s what they all say.” He grumbles. “Good job on this place and good luck to you. I’ll see you around the building.”
There’s nothing more to say. Harley walks off and leaves me with the envelope in my hand.
Pulling out my desk chair, I take a seat and reach for the letter opener.
Liv,
Congrats on opening day.
It was an honor to work on The Mason Center and see something you envisioned, come to life.
I wish I could be there in person, but I thought it was best that I stay away. I hope Harley didn’t act like a jerk when he delivered this for me.
Good luck with everything. I know you’ll do great.
Maybe we’ll cross paths back home one day. Take care.
~ J.
I dab my eyes and do a double take when another slip of paper falls on my desk.
Lying before me is a donation receipt for several thousand dollars from Jameson’s company to The Mason Center. I may not have been involved in the funding of this place but I know damn well this must easily be every penny of Jameson’s salary for the past months, and then some.
Chapter 18
Jameson
I’ve busied myself with paperwork and catching up on the business side of things for the last two days. Anything to keep my mind off of what’s happening in New York right now, and I’ve done a pretty good job of distracting myself. The Mason Center officially opened yesterday, and I’m waiting for the press release that Leo is supposed to send me.
Love Under Construction (425 Madison Avenue Book 6) Page 8