by Carla Krae
****
I just barely managed to pass second semester.
I changed my major to Business Administration for sophomore year, something safe and employable. Put away my camera, and hers. The darkroom equipment went in the garage. I couldn’t think of standing behind a lens without my heart breaking all over again. Had to take some summer courses since I switched focus, but they’d be easy enough.
I did make one friend on my new path. It started as another tutoring job. Nathan was friendly, driven like me, and really smart. I explained the concept he wasn’t getting and figured that was the end of it, but he kept coming back.
Then he asked me out.
“I don’t date, Nathan. I’m sorry.”
“Come on, Liz.” He liked calling me Liz instead of Beth, for some reason. At least he never called me Bethie. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal. Pizza, a movie…we have a nice time hanging out, don’t we?”
“We do, but Nathan, no…sorry. And I’m not feeding you a line. I really don’t date.”
Not anymore. Not ever, if the stabbing pain I felt whenever I thought of my ex was going to stay with me.
“That’s your final answer?” He really was cute, with his sandy brown hair and coffee-colored eyes.
“That look doesn’t work on me. Yes. That’s my final answer. I’m only interested in friends.”
He sighed. “Okay. I can deal.”
Nathan had big goals and big dreams, but it wasn’t like it was with…my ex. I had no doubt he’d succeed eventually, but he had this quiet intensity that ran under the kind of geeky yuppie thing he had going on. Being the near opposite of J—my ex was the only reason he was a male friend.
And we never talked about personal stuff.
Where my ex was tall and gorgeous, Nathan was an inch taller than me and boyishly decent looking. Where the ex had flirted, Nate told jokes. He was a former nerd with a head for numbers and research. Conservative, yet competitive. He was from the East Coast and had his first business at ten, trimming lawns. There wasn’t a single thing about him other than his gender that reminded me of…that guy.
We had nearly the same schedule and competed for grades. It helped me focus and focus made the hurts scab over.
I didn’t move back home for summer break. My father wasn’t there for Mom in my eyes, or for me, and I had no interest in seeing him. I went by the house when I knew he wouldn’t be there. Andrew thought I was being harsh, but he avoided home for years before this, so I considered his judgment tainted by Mom’s death.
Vivian still sent clippings about Jacob’s band from the newspaper. He graduated this summer. His band broke up before he was out of college after the manager ran off with their profits, but he secured a solo record deal soon after graduation. Her letters sounded lonely sometimes. I knew how that felt, but I couldn’t write her back, didn’t want to open that door again even though what he did wasn’t her fault.
Michelle and I lost touch over the break. I’d pulled away, of course, so I guess she got tired of reaching out. We hadn’t had classes together since I switched majors, removing the excuse to chat regularly. I only noticed once I was back for junior year for a month and hadn’t had a call for Friday movie night.
Going into my third year at college, I was caught up for my business degree, and Nathan and I got more competitive. We annoyed the hell out of our Profs trying to spit out the answers first.
I turned twenty-one a couple weeks before finals and we took a night off to celebrate.
It was a bad, bad idea.
“Come on. You can’t spend your birthday hiding in your room again.”
“Why not? It’s cozy and I have leftovers.”
Nate pulled me toward the off-campus bar and grill. “Well, tonight you’re having real food. My treat.”
“Darn right. You make more than me.”
We ordered some burgers and I soaked in the atmosphere of happy co-eds blowing off steam. When was the last time I was out around people?
He told our waitress it was my twenty-first birthday and that got me a free drink, something sweet that tasted kinda like a milkshake. So avoiding thoughts of you-know-who, it didn’t cross my mind what happened the last time I had alcohol.
I woke up partially undressed and confused about where I was. Don’t know who made the first move, but we were both pickled. Maybe Nate still held a secret crush on me. Maybe I just wanted to be touched for the first time in years.
My stomach rebelled and I ran to his bathroom. I had sex with Nathan by the light of a lava lamp. I think?
“You okay?”
“Why didn’t I remember why I don’t drink?” I moaned. I could barely remember anything…did we go all the way? Use a condom? Was he clean?
“Yeah, tomorrow’s gonna be a hangover morning for me, too.”
“Did we…?”
He was wearing boxers. His brow furrowed. “I don’t know.”
“Let me know if you remember.
“You’re welcome to stay the night, Beth.”
Beth. Not Liz. Not good. Stay? In a bed with another person? No-no-no...I was never doing that again. I couldn’t even look at the bed in my room at my parents’ house. Dad’s house.
“I, uh…I should go. Once the room stops spinning.”
“Yeah. Okay.” He sounded disappointed.
God, I felt so guilty for it, that I couldn’t turn my heart to the guy who wanted me.
I made the Walk of Shame as soon as I could, made an appointment at the university clinic, and ducked Nathan for a couple days after. He didn’t know what to say and I didn’t either, so we said hello in the halls and good morning in the classes we shared, and I looked over the occasional paper for him.
When we came back for senior year, it was alright, though we never hung out in a private space again.
****
The indie label matched him with a couple musicians and he met Bob, his new best mate. They put together a group with Dylan, Mikey, and Aaron on drums. The new band got picked up by a big company. The label’s headquarters were in Los Angeles, so to L.A. he went.
They released singles and an EP and played wherever they could be booked. Within two years, he had a hit album, been on The Tonight Show and Letterman, and would be going on a solo tour. Radio play was also hot in England and spreading through Europe. His bandmates were the best bunch of blokes he could hope to play with.
With success came money, and the house and cars and paparazzi. The screaming fans were still his favorite part. It was everything he’d ever wanted and life was sweet.
Two years in her city. It was tempting to show up on her doorstep.
At first, he imagined all these scenarios. In one, he ran into her at a random place, the past fell away, and they raced to each others’ arms. In another, they met, she slapped him for his supposed offence, and they yelled it out. The third and most likely had her staring at him in surprise, deer-caught-in-headlights expression, and then she ran. The last was his favorite in those moments he felt bitter—they saw each other, she begged for him to take her back, and he walked away. He’d seen a glimpse of Beth in a million places since she cast him out of her life, but the times he thought of her popped up less and less.
Nearly five years post break-up; she was just a memory until he caught sight of a profile he’d never forget in a twenty-four-hour market.
Son of a bitch…was that…?
In the middle of a writing session, he stopped at a random store for munchies. He wandered around, trying to find the junk food section, and a young brunette pushed her cart past the end of the aisle.
His feet were following her before his mind decided to confirm his suspicion. Seeing the girl from behind, he was almost certain, unless another woman shared her shape. She turned down an aisle. He paused at the end-cap and peeked around the corner.
Well, I’ll be damned…
It was his ex, alright. Beth’s hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. She wore sweats and an oversized hoo
die. A notepad and pencil in her hands, she hadn’t looked up the whole time she shopped. Spotting an abandoned cart behind him, he devised a plan.
****
I graduated with honors in ‘06, just ahead of Nathan, and found an assistant’s job shortly after graduation. The hours were long and tedious, but I had an apartment alone and food in my belly. It was a tiny place I could barely afford, but it was mine and had no memories attached. I even put a new bed in it.
Andrew kept nudging me to move out to Virginia. He didn’t like the thought of me being alone if I was going to keep Dad out of my life, and he and Darcy were getting married.
Six months later, I moved up to an executive assistant position, though I was still pretty broke. Thank God I never had extravagant tastes or I’d never be able to make it in Los Angeles or any of its suburbs.
Everywhere I went, I heard Jacob’s singles on the radio. The songs were good…well, the sound. Paying attention to the lyrics would be caring what he had to say, and I didn’t. Four years post break-up, I finally didn’t feel pain in my chest when I saw his picture.
I considered that good progress.
Even so, did he have to be everywhere?
In November 2007, I ran into him in the supermarket three blocks from my home.
What were the odds?
Part Two
Personal Attention
Chapter One
2007
I’d been living on take-out and vending machine food for too long. An empty fridge waited at home, except for the “science experiment” in back, which was mega gross, so I changed clothes and headed to the grocery store still open after ten at night. Cruising the junk food aisle, I debated between chips and cookies.
Another cart rammed into mine, jamming the handle into my stomach and knocking my breath out in a whoosh. I wrenched my cart away.
“Watch where you’re going, jerk!”
“Beth?”
Oh God…only one man on Earth said my name like that. “Jacob. Wow, it’s been…”
“A long time, yeah.” Same ocean-blue eyes, same cheekbones, same t-shirt and jeans. “Only you and Mum call me Jacob. Odd to hear these days. So…what are you doing now?”
I couldn’t believe the day I ran into him was when I looked this gross. Needing to do laundry, I only had old school sweats available, and I was so swamped at the office, I hadn’t showered since yesterday.
This was so weird.
“I’m an executive assistant for an advertising firm, for around six months. What are you doing in L.A.?” Why was I talking to him? He cheated on me, remember?
“Tonight, I needed writing fuel.” He grabbed a bag of Doritos off the shelf. “Secretary, huh? What happened to photography?”
Oh, so not going there. “I changed my mind. And I’m an assistant, not a secretary.” Hmm, Pepperidge Farm or Chips Ahoy? If I didn’t look at him, would he go away?
“What’s the difference?”
“A dollar more an hour and twice the work, according to my boss.” Why was I giving him details? We weren’t friends anymore. I started pushing my cart further down the aisle.
He followed, damn him. “That doesn’t sound fair. You know, my management is looking for an assistant for the band. You should apply.”
A job offer? He cheated on me and the first time he sees me years later, he suggests a job offer? “Uh, no. I don’t know the first thing about the music business, for one, and two, I worked hard to get where I am in the firm.”
“It pays a hell of a lot more than you’re gettin’ now, I guarantee that, and no offense, but you look like you’re living on pennies.”
The evil little voice in my head reminded me of the roach problem in my apartment.
Bastard. How dare he judge me just because he went on to be a millionaire? “Well, excuse me for being a mere peasant, Your Highness. Isn’t this store a bit beneath you, then? In the wrong part of town?”
His eyes narrowed. “It was just a suggestion, Beth.” He shook his head, looking at me with a mix of pity and disgust. “If you turned into this much of a bitch, you did me a favor by not returning my calls.” He turned and walked toward the front of the store with his chips.
“Me? At least I’m not a lying cheat, you arrogant prick.”
He stopped, looked back at me over his shoulder, turned around, and came back. If looks could kill… I had a flashback to my freshman year.
“What the bloody hell are you on about, you daft cow?”
“Like you don’t know. God, to think I ever trusted you.”
He opened his mouth for a comeback, then snapped it shut, clenching his jaw. We stared at each other, waiting for the other to flinch. He clenched his fists, released them, and when he spoke again, his volume was lower.
“Look…this isn’t the place to hash out old grudges. If you want to yell at me for whatever you think I did, can we do it in private?”
I crossed my arms under my breasts. “Worried about your reputation, Jacob?”
“Want the paparazzi to photograph you like this, Beth?”
Point. I didn’t want the exposure or privacy violation. “You know, I’d rather just pretend this didn’t happen and go on with my life. Best of luck with your music.” I turned my cart away from him and left the aisle.
Get out before you cry, get out before you cry…
“Wait. If I ever hurt you, I’m sorry, but I’m completely in the dark over why you shut me out. There, I said it.”
This many years, and I still knew the tone in his voice when he was being completely honest. Dammit. Keeping my back to him, I said, “I accept your apology, and I don’t want to talk about it.” Maybe he’d been so drunk, he didn’t remember the girl. Did that make it any better?
No.
“Bethie…” he said quietly.
Always “Bethie” when he wanted something…but I could use this to get out of my rat-trap apartment. “How much more?”
“Huh?”
I faced him. “How much is the job paying?”
“How much do you want?”
“Double my current salary, and I’ll give notice. But no getting mad at me if I’m in over my head. If I’m the wrong candidate, no hard feelings.”
He stuck out his hand. “Deal.”
I shook his hand and felt a zap of static electricity. Stupid dry windy weather. He let go a second later than what was business-appropriate.
“I’ll set up an interview,” he said. “If you’re half as organized as you used to be, this will be a big help. I can’t remember where I’m supposed to be half the time.”
Some things never changed. “Yeah. Well, I need to get my food home.”
He nodded. “Right.” He pulled out his wallet and searched through the card pockets. “Here. You’ll be getting a call from this guy.” He handed me a business card.
“Okay. Well…bye.”
He smiled. A little. “Goodbye, love.” Jacob Lindsey turned and walked away.
Oh my god… My body started to realize what I’d just been doing. Oh-my-god, oh-my-god… My heart was racing, my hands started to shake, and my knees felt week. I sunk against the dairy case.
What had I done? Working for him, or around him? Had I lost my mind?
If I was hired, I was paying off my student loans. That’s what I was doing. Just business.
This was so a bad idea… Then again, he didn’t have my number to give to his manager.
I pushed my cart to the check-out station, the clerk scanned my groceries, and I swiped my card to pay. Everything bagged up and back in the cart, I left the store and rolled out to my car.
Jacob was standing by it.
“What now?” I asked. He looked up from snooping through the windows.
“Still driving your dad’s old thing.”
“Hand-me-down. Why are you still here?”
“I recognized it and it…doesn’t matter. So…five years.”
I unlocked the driver-side door, opened it, and pulled t
he tab up to unlock the rear door so I could put my bags in the backseat. Jacob handed me one when I turned to the cart. He was helping now?
“Would’ve been longer if chance hadn’t intervened,” I said.
“Ouch.”
“What’s your angle, Jacob? Did you search me out or something?”
His brows rose. “Whoa, paranoid, much? I never expected to see you again, either. Forgive me for bein’ personable.”
“There is no forgiving you, that’s the point!”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Thought you didn’t want to talk about the past.”
“I don’t. Look…if I take the job, we’re not buddies or best pals. We’ll be polite and pleasant because that makes a better work environment, but don’t think anything will be like the past. Clear?”
He just looked at me with eyes taking in too much.
“What happened to you, Beth?” he asked softly.
I sucked in a breath. “Don’t. Don’t act like you care.”
He shrugged. “I always did.”
I turned away and put the last two bags in the car. “Do you accept my terms or not?”
“Yeah. Understood. Goodnight, Beth.” He walked away.
I got in to go home, doors locked around me, and my hand wouldn’t turn the key in the ignition. Tremors welled out from the pit of my stomach again and I laid my forehead on the steering wheel. God, why did he have to come back into my life? I had a routine and peace and quiet, and here I was leaping into the entertainment world…must be losing it. One too many days of staring at Excel sheets and appointment books, and I’d flipped my lid.
Become one taco short of a combination plate.
That was the only explanation for agreeing, being willing, to see Jacob Lindsey every day again. I was insane.
****
Jacob walked to the black Mercedes coupe that was his under-the-radar car and deactivated the alarm with his key fob. Once inside, he left a message with his manager about offering Beth the PA position and started the engine.
What a night…when he saw her, he was curious, but then when she looked at him… Those gray-blue eyes were naturally solemn, but they’d never been empty before. Hollow, like every day was sucking the life out of her. Compassion and nostalgia moved him and he offered the job. The Beth he’d known never would’ve been caught dead shopping in sweats, so she had to be struggling and he could help. Be the bigger person. And maybe it would burn her a bit to see she threw away something good.