“All the best with your album.” Pressing a casual kiss on his cheek, she followed it up with a glare. “And don’t cheat on me while you’re in LA. I’m not forgiving you a second time.”
“Baby don’t worry.”
“Bye.” She hurried out as fast as she could.
This could be the first time in her life that she actually felt calmer after talking to Bryan. He’d sounded alarmingly mature today, and sincere, too.
Bella plucked out a packet of peanuts from her purse and dumped some into her mouth. The sodium infiltrated her taste buds and calmed her down.
When her phone vibrated in her pocket, she took it out to check if Jamie had sent her any messages. He’d sent her fifteen.
The latest one read,
Jamie: R u alive? Why aren’t u replying?
Not bothering to scroll up to the other messages he’d sent, Bella typed a reply quickly.
Bella: Sorry.
Jamie: What r u doing now?
Bella: Eating penis.
Jamie: Is it good?
Bella: Nah. Way too salty.
Jamie: You swallowed?
Bella: Of course. Why wouldn’t I?
Jamie: Guess I won’t have to use a condom next time u give me a BJ.
Bella: Huh?
Not immediately getting him, Bella scrolled up, and almost threw her phone away in humiliation when she saw what autocorrect had done. Her cheeks burned like lava.
Hell, she was so sick of autocorrect.
Bella: *PEANUTS. I was eating PEANUTS. The PEANUTS are salty. Damn autocorrect.
Jamie: LMAO
Bella: Did I scare u?
Jamie: Nope. I was having pleasant visions of you swallowing cum.
Bella: Hey!
Jamie: Kidding.
Bella: I’m so sorry.
Jamie: Don’t be. Autocorrect gets even the best of us.
Although that would go down as the worst autocorrect fiasco of her life, she was glad it had been him on the other end. He could make the worst moments seem better.
Another green text bubble (the color of his messages) slithered at the bottom of her screen as she melted into the crowd at the subway station.
Jamie: BTW what do I wear to dinner with your friends? I’m having trouble picking an outfit.
Bella: That’s the first time a man’s asked me that question.
Jamie: Too girly?
Bella: Just wear what you usually wear.
Jamie: I want to wear something different.
Bella: Ok, then wear a suit.
Jamie: See u at dinner.
As she flung the phone back in her purse, Bella felt the buzz in her heart die. She tried not to think about it. In two more months—one, now—she’d have to give up this sense of aliveness for something much more mundane and uncomfortable.
She didn’t delude herself. It was never going to be like this with Bryan. Never. And she was going to miss Jamie so much. Her heart nearly broke at the thought of being separated from him. One month suddenly seemed too short. She wanted a year, a few years, an eternity.
Be strong. Don’t settle for impermanence.
Honestly, she didn’t feel as excited as she used to at the mention of marriage these days.
Although he’d redeemed himself somewhat today, who knew how long Bryan’s transformation would stick. When she’d been under the influence of an unreal love eight years ago, he’d seemed like a god. Slowly, though, realization had crept over her. Bryan was great—he bought her everything, took her everywhere, wrote songs for her.
Once, those things had been enough, back when she hadn’t known she could have more.
Now she knew that she could have much, much more. Even if that much, much more came without the promise of permanence.
*
Jamie knew something was wrong when he showed up at the restaurant he was supposed to meet Bella’s friends at, and he was the only person wearing a suit.
Ducking his head, he made his way across the rustic interiors of the restaurant to the table where Bella was waving at him. Her face was the only thing that calmed his nerves and made all the stares he received worth it.
She wore a casual maroon dress that skimmed her knees and was a beautiful contrast to her tan skin. Light makeup enhanced her already beautiful features. If they’d been somewhere more private, he’d have made love to her tenderly.
“I didn’t think you’d actually show up wearing a suit,” she remarked when he slid into the chair adjacent to hers.
He kissed her cheek. “You look beautiful.”
Scarlet suffused her cheeks.
“He’s paying you compliments. That’s a good sign.” Kat, whom he’d met before, flashed him a smile and extended a pale, slender hand for a handshake. “Nice to meet you again, Jamie.”
There was another woman beside her, who looked markedly different. She was medium build, had a heart-shaped face and blonde hair. Next to Kat’s bright red hair, Kate Moss-esque figure and angular features, she looked almost motherly.
“Hi. I’m Ashley.” She held out her hand to him.
“Jamie.”
“Would you believe she had a child a week ago?” Bella interjected, a hand flying to her mouth.
“Congratulations,” Jamie said. “I wouldn’t have been able to say that by looking at you.”
Ashley sipped water demurely. “Thanks.”
“See? I told you. You lost all the pregnancy weight already.” Bella wiggled a finger at her. “He can’t even tell you’re a mother.”
“I guess.” Ashley’s gaze flitted to her phone on the table. “Do you think I should call Andrew to check if Penelope is doing ok?”
“Stop stressing. He’ll call you if he needs anything. Have some faith in him. He’s the father of your child.” Kat hooked an arm around Ashley’s shoulder. “Relax.”
“But what if—”
“Nothing will happen.”
“Right.” Apologetically, Ashley folded her a napkin on the table into a flower. “It’s a new mother thing. You constantly worry about your child.”
Jamie picked up the paper flower. “That’s some beautiful paper folding.”
“Just a little something I learned back in grade school.” Shrinking back into her seat, she rubbed her forehead.
They ordered drinks—two Pinot Noirs, one Rosé and one orange juice—and decided to put off ordering food until later.
“So now that we have those out of the way, tell us a little about yourself. Bella’s told us pretty much nothing about you except stuff we could’ve found online anyway.” Bunching her hair, Kat twisted it into a thin column and let it hang over her left shoulder.
“I’m not sure there’s anything about me that can’t be found online.”
Kat pinched her. “Come on. You’re not that boring.”
“Sadly, I am. There’s not time for much in a writer’s life except writing...” One of Bryan’s songs drifted through the restaurant, and he had to immediately check Bella.
“What? Why’re you staring at me?” His reaction made a slightly confused expression hover over her face.
“Nothing. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She was tapping her fork on the spoon, humming something that vaguely resembled the very song that was playing.
This one didn’t seem to affect her at all. Maybe it had just been that particular song, then. Or something to do with that day.
“They’re having a sale at Tiffany’s this weekend,” Ashley broke in, addressing him.
Jamie looked up at the waitress who brought him his drink and thanked her. “Are you planning to buy something?”
Kat sniffed. “Actually that was a tip for you. Buy an engagement ring for Bella while it’s cheap.”
“Guys!” Reddening, Bella rubbed her throat to control the series of coughs that blasted from her vocal cords. “Jamie’s not marrying me.”
“Exactly. I’m leaving for LA in the new year.” He
corroborated with a nod.
Two sharp glances—one blazing green and one blazing blue—veered to Bella. “You didn’t say he wouldn’t be staying.”
Like a deer caught in headlights, Bella blinked. “It...it doesn’t matter. Jamie and I are just doing short-term.”
Twin snorts erupted. “Short term.”
Offended, Bella gave her head a shake. “What’s wrong with short-term?”
“Nothing. You’ve just never wanted to do it before.” Kat’s voice was charged with suspicion.
“There’s a first time for everything. I think I need a break from the pressure of finding a husband.” Muscles twitched around Bella’s lips.
Due to his proximity to her, Jamie could detect the bead of sweat rolling down the back of her neck.
Liar.
With a nervous laugh, she added, “I’m absolutely not thinking of marrying Jamie.”
That laugh was too controlled to be believable. Her desperate body language said it all.
Fighting the impulse in him that told him to correct her, Jamie let it go. While he knew he could never be the one for her, he too, sometimes wished he could be. Unreal hopes were only human. She was entitled to hers as much as he was to his.
“Me neither.” Jamie joined his palms under the table. “It wouldn’t work out.”
“You know, with the show not being renewed and stuff...well, long distance never works.” Eyes shifting around nervously, Bella turned the pages of the menu card. “Oh, look at this. Don’t loaded nachos sound delicious? I’m hungry. Let’s get some food. Excuse me!”
“These chicken fajitas sound interesting...” Kat buried her nose in her menu as a waitress hurried to note their orders.
Apologetic, Ashley looked at him from across the table and whispered, “Sorry about the show.”
“It happens.” Jamie gave a shrug.
“Loved it, by the way. Watched every episode. You did a great job on it.”
“I’m happy to hear that.” It meant a lot to him that she’d liked it.
A stretch of silence followed as Ashley’s phone beeped and she checked it. Jamie used it to empty his glass and sneak some secret glances at Bella. She wasn’t far behind herself, looking his way a few times when she thought he wasn’t looking.
Sometimes, living without her seemed like an impossibility. He’d never have picked her out if he’d seen her at a bar or out on the street, but now that he’d been with her, he couldn’t envision himself with anyone else.
No woman would ever get his sense of humor like her. No woman would write him silly messages, cry when she watched his debut movie for the millionth time, and cook him store-bought stir-fry.
No woman would ever be her.
She was pure magic.
And he wanted to be under her spell forever.
Chapter 14
“Mr. Jamie Star.” The interviewer, a man in a stern gray pinstripe suit shook hands with him.
Jamie brushed him a courteous smile, then waited for him to sit. “Hello, sir.”
After his teaching demo, he was exhausted, but his long day of interviews was only beginning. He had hours to go before he was done meeting all the faculty and students he was supposed to meet today. Then, there would be the obligatory department dinner, where he’d have to schmooze and laugh some more.
“I’m Charlie Rubin, the head of film writing in the Department of Dramatic Writing.” The interviewer turned his head to Jamie.
“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Smiling nervously, Jamie straightened his posture.
“So, Jamie, tell me about why you want to teach at Tisch School of the Arts? What draws you to us?”
The fact that my girlfriend teaches philosophy in the building down the street.
Really, Bella was the only reason he was interviewing at NYU. He already had an offer from USC after going down there and meeting the faculty last month. The terms were good, the money wasn’t bad for a teaching gig, and the job was his. He should be celebrating and packing his bags.
But some part of him didn’t want to leave New York. Didn’t wanted to leave Bella.
She’d become way too important to him over the last half year. So important that the very thought of having to live without her in LA was depressing. Although he’d sworn not to get long-term with her, he was now starting to imagine a future with her.
Together. In New York.
So he’d been grateful when an open position for an adjunct professor for film writing had been advertised at NYU last month. Wouldn’t it be perfect if they could both go to work together, spending their morning commute staring into each other’s loving eyes rather than the subway crowd? And there was always the potential for sex during lunch break. Or just meeting each other and having lunch together. Even small things like that mattered.
When Charlie looked at his watch, Jamie realized he’d been spacing out for too long. He rattled off the answer he’d meticulously researched and memorized for the interview.
“That’s great.” Charlie nodded, but his manner of nodding didn’t give any clues to what was going on inside his head. “What would you change about the screenwriting course that we currently run, if you were to teach it?”
Jamie swallowed, trying to clear the lump sitting in his throat. This wasn’t a tough question and he knew what to say. But suddenly, his nerves shook him.
What if he messed this up? What if he had to leave Bella forever? What if he never heard her voice again? What if, next March, he saw that she’d updated her Facebook status to engaged? What if he got a wedding invitation by mail next September? What if she married, and he became nothing more than a memory to her?
His heart sunk at that last one. He couldn’t bear being nothing to her. She was everything to him.
He didn’t want her getting married to someone else. He didn’t want some other man to be holding her hand, kiss her, make love to her, be the father of her children. He didn’t want another man to take his place in her life.
Because he loved her too much to let her go.
*
“You shouldn’t be calling me,” Grant said, when Carla called him a week after Eve and his fallout.
“You shouldn’t be answering my calls, either. But you are.”
“Okay, kiddo. What’d you want?” he asked, gruffly.
“Relax. It’s not about my mom. It’s about me.” She sneezed. “I want you to appear on my YouTube channel as a guest. You cool with that?”
Grant grunted. Carla Rosenberg. Ever the mercenary YouTuber.
“No, I’m not cool with that.”
“Hey, come on. We can record this Saturday at my house. My mom will be gone.”
“Lemme remind you what happened the last time I was at your house.” He used the strictest tone in his arsenal. “Your mom and I broke up.”
“Dude, you think I didn’t know? Trust me, by now, the entire neighborhood knows.” He heard sounds of traffic from Carla’s end. She must be out. “She’ll forgive you. I know she will. She really loves you.”
“I said terrible things to her. If she’s a smart woman—which she undoubtedly is, since she works for me—she won’t forgive.”
He heard her shrug. “I’ve called her worse. Being a parent, she probably understands how easy it is to say mean things to people without meaning to. When emotions are involved, words slip out before you know what you’ve said.”
“Those words didn’t just slip out,” he protested.
“You meant them?”
“I wanted to. I tried to.” He dropped his voice lower. “I want to.”
“But you don’t.”
“No.”
“That’s a relief. I was getting worried that I’d have to put up with mom watching your movies all night for the rest of my senior year. No offense, but you have an annoying accent.”
A mixture of hope and pride leapt in his chest. “She watches my movies?”
“After I’ve gone to sleep.”
He faked nonchalance,
even though his heart was humming a different tune. “Well, what can I say? They’re good movies.”
“They must be. She cries a lot while watching them.”
“I don’t remember having acted in any tragedies.”
“Don’t be dense. You know it’s your face that’s making her cry.”
Grant chuckled. “And here I thought I was handsome.”
“Get out of the movie star fantasy, dude. That was a long time ago. You’re old now.”
That snapped at his heart like a rubber band. Was she attacking his face? “I didn’t age on screen…” He dropped his argument. “But you’re right. I’m not Eddie Mans anymore.”
If he had snapped out of that fantasy, that role sooner, he’d never have hurt Eve. Bur he’d immaturely clung to his former glory, his shallow ego.
“You know; she always watches closely when you kiss the actress on screen. I think she thinks that if she sees you with enough other women, she’ll remember what a disgusting pervert you are.” She blew out a breath. “It’s taking time.”
“Healing takes time.”
“Are you going to let her heal?”
He swallowed the regret in his throat. He owed at least that much to her. “Yes.”
“Bad answer.”
Grant jerked. “What?”
“When people heal, they go back to being who they used to be. I don’t want her to go back to being who she was. She was boring, uptight, and miserable, and after she forgets about you she’ll be boring, uptight, and miserable once more. She’ll never again smile like a maniac when no one’s watching. She’ll never flush like a schoolgirl after a makeout sesh. She’ll never overstretch her cooking abilities to make us something fancy for dinner. She won’t be happy, period.”
“You’re being dramatic. Eve still has her job. She still has you. That’s plenty of happiness.”
Carla drew a shaky breath. “What about you? Do you want to go back to being who you were?”
Who had he been? A people pleaser. A hedonist. A consummate womanizer. A man with no soul.
“I know you’re only fifteen, but even you should be able to see how mismatched your mother and I are.”
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