“You all right?” James asks.
“And who’s she?” The woman in the doorway pushes past James and forces herself in. “What is this, James? Did you invite another one of your whores over to spur me?”
Immediately, I don’t like her. She’s decked out in rubies and jewelry. Her makeup is flawless. She’s wearing a red cocktail dress that’s so thin it might as well be sheer.
It’s fucking one a.m.!
I don’t like her attitude, either. It’s presumptuous. Arrogant. She holds herself like she owns the place.
“Angela, this is Celeste,” James grates. “Celeste, Angela.” He turns on her. “There. Introductions have been made. Now go.”
She ignores him and takes a step toward me. “I’m Angela, his wife,” she says, flashing her ring finger.
A nasty bout of jealousy fills me. I suddenly also feel nauseous.
“You’re married?” I ask James, weakly.
“Was married,” he stresses. “Ex-wife.”
Angela gives a light, dismissive laugh. She looks at me with her nose high in the air. “Honey, why don’t you go and run along? I have to speak to my husband alone.”
“Ex-husband,” James grates. “Angela, do you want me to call security?”
She laughs again and waltzes in to drape herself over the couch. “Darling, who do you think let me in?”
I can feel the tension growing between them. I look at James. “I should go,” I offer.
“No!” James snaps. He jabs a finger at me. “You—stay.” He turns to face his wife. “You—leave. Now.”
She exhales. “Oh, you’re really serious now, aren’t you?”
James glowers at her in reply.
“Fine.” She stands up and walks to the door with nary a care in the world. She turns her head to look at me. “Just know that when he’s fucking you… Candy, was it?” She gives a vicious smile. “He’s thinking of me. I taught him everything he knows.”
And with that she breezes into the hall.
James slams the door on her. “Fuck. Her.” He mutters. “Fucking vindictive bitch.”
He goes to the kitchen and pours himself a drink. He throws his head back and downs it in one gulp.
I look at him. “You have a wife?” I ask him.
“Had,” he corrects. “I had a wife. Past-tense. It’s over now and done.”
“She still wears your ring,” I say.
“She’s a fucking nightmare,” he tells me. “She’s been dragging her feet on the divorce proceedings for months. Every court date, she and her lawyers come up with some other elaborate excuse as to why it should be delayed, or some other shit like that.” He gives a disgusted grunt. “The woman leeched the life out of me. Truth be told? I think she’s sleeping with the judge.” He pours another drink and swallows.
“What did she want tonight?” I ask him softly.
“Oh, the usual shit,” James says. “I don’t know if you could tell, but she was drunk. She holds her liquor well.” He waves a hand in the air abstractly. “I imagine she came here to make me change my mind. You saw how she was dressed. She probably came here thinking she would seduce me.”
I come closer to him. “Would it have worked?”
He gives a sour chuckle. “With you here? No.”
“And what if I wasn’t?” I ask. “Answer me honestly.”
He pursues his lips. “Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear, or do you want me to tell you the truth?”
“The latter would be preferable,” I say, sitting on a stool beside him.
“Well… you saw how she was dressed.” His eyes shine with a bit of mischief. “Do you think I should have turned her down?”
“Yes. But I don’t think you would have, no.”
He smiles at me, in a sort of melancholy way. “Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner.”
“And what about all those things you told me?” I ask. I know I’m treading dangerous waters, but I have to know. “What you said about… me?”
He reaches out and takes my hand. He pulls it closer to him, then envelopes it with both of his. “Celeste,” he says, looking me straight in the eyes. “Not one word I said to you has been a lie.”
My heart flutters. It’s such a stupid reaction, but, I can’t help it.
I don’t think I can help any of my feelings around him.
“So how long were you married?” I ask, trying to deflect the conversation away from me.
He grimaces. “Do you really want to know?”
“I don’t know a damn thing about you,” I say. “You could have a kid running around somewhere with this woman. Hell, kids!”
He laughs. “No, no. No children. I assure you.”
“So, then yes. Tell me about your marriage. We can start there.”
He smirks. “What exactly are we starting? I thought this was just sex, no?”
I hit his arm. “Don’t play coy. We both know you’re going to have to reveal some things about you for this—us—to ever work.”
His eyes light up.
“Well, it’s kind of hard to deny when I just experienced…” my eyes move up toward his upstairs bedroom, “…that, with you. And it wasn’t the first time.”
“Nor will it be the last,” he promises.
My heart flutters again.
“So, marriage?” He stands. “We were together for just under half a year. As husband and wife, I mean. I knew Angela much longer, from college.”
He walks toward one massive glass window and peers out at the city below. “We always kind of had an on-again, off-again relationship. I never thought it was going to be more serious than that. But then I published my first book—She was the one who urged me to do it, you know—and that experience kind of tied us together. She saw it all behind the scenes. People think I was an overnight success.” He shakes his head and chuckles. “That’s only because it’s all they see. Like your friend, for instance.” He flashes that dazzling smile at me. “That’s all she sees when she talks to me. Professor Landon, national best-selling author, a literary celebrity, all that shit.” He shrugs. “It’s nice, being recognized like that, for a while. Then you become jaded. The faces of your fans all blur together. One here, another there, what’s the fucking difference? They all think they know you. But they don’t know who you truly are. Not really. They think they do. They assume they can read into me, discover who I am, just through my works.” He shakes his head. “It’s all bullshit.”
I watch him and keep quiet, waiting for him to continue. Eventually, after strolling back and forth across the floor a few times, he does.
“That’s why I took up teaching, at first, you know. My father was a professor. I thought I could maybe garner some… not anonymity, not really. I was never naïve enough to think that, but some… normalcy. I thought teaching would give me a routine I could follow. Something to do with all my free time.”
“So then this…” I circle my finger around the massive room, “…all this, and the yacht, and the car, and all your wealth, it came from…”
“The books.” He laughs sourly and spreads his arms. “Behold, the lair of the international best-selling author. The genius of the literary world!” He smirks. “Or so the media likes to call me.”
“Shit,” I say. “I didn’t know writing could be so lucrative.”
“It isn’t.” He shakes his head. “It’s nothing I would ever tell my son or daughter to do. I got lucky. I struck gold with my very first book. Do you know how many authors more deserving, more intelligent, have been toiling away for decades, without once getting the recognition they deserve? My life…” He looks around, then back out at the city. “I didn’t do anything to warrant it. I was at the right place at the right time. Nothing more. My first book? The right newspaper featured it, and it caught on. That’s it. I was just twenty-four. I’ve been riding the coattails of that success ever since.”
“But that’s not true!” I protest. “I’ve read your stuff. You’re brilliant
!”
He gives me a sly look. “Don’t tell me you’re turning into a fangirl.”
“I’m not,” I say. “But Summer gave me your book to read before your first class. I can see why it sold so well. You have a way with words…”
He stops me by holding out one hand. “Thousands of people have a way with words,” he tells me. “Tens of thousands. Hell, some of the students I’ve taught write better than I do. It’s all luck, Celeste. I was simply the beneficiary of a spectacular fluke.”
“Jaded ass,” I mutter.
“But you know,” he winks, “I’m not entirely opposed.”
I smile.
“But how can you be so dismissive of your success?” I ask. “I saw you in office hours. You thrived on the attention. You loved it!”
“It’s a mask I put on,” he says. “That’s what they expect, so that’s what I give them. That’s why you are so alluring, Celeste.”
“Me?” I say, taken aback. “Why me? What did I do?”
“It’s not what you did,” he says, “But what you didn’t. You didn’t recognize me. You didn’t know who I was.”
“Sorry if I bruised your ego,” I quip.
He tilts his head to the side. “That’s not what I mean. There’s something about you, Celeste. I sensed it from the first moment we met. There’s an… innocence to you.”
I almost burst out laughing. “Excuse me? If you knew even a tenth of who I am, you would not say that. Not in a million years.”
“I would,” he insists. He walks toward me and stops on the other side of the counter. He looks across the black granite to meet my eyes. “I don’t mean innocent in what you’ve done or haven’t done. I can tell that, like me, you’re no saint.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Shit,” he says. “That came out wrong. It’s not what I meant.”
“Humor me,” I say, resting my chin on a fist. “Tell me what you meant.”
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it myself,” he says. “First of all, you’re very easy to talk to. Even when you’re being a bratty bitch.”
“Hey!”
He laughs. “Hold on. I’m not finished. I think it has to do with how you see the world. With how you approach it. You’re not cynical. Not yet.”
“Should I be?”
“A hell of a lot of people your age are,” he says. “And it just goes downhill from there. Look at me, for instance.”
“Oh, I am,” I assure him. That’s all I’ve been doing as he’s been talking, drinking up his features, losing myself in his eyes. Finding myself lost in a little fantasy where I can actually succumb to the feelings ripening inside of me as he speaks.
Of course, I know I can’t. But for the moment—for the night—I can pretend to. I can be Cinderella dancing with her prince before the clock strikes twelve and the illusion shatters.
He smiles, showing his perfect teeth and winning my heart. “You’re innocent in that you haven’t let reality corrupt you. It hasn’t change who you are.”
My stomach sinks. Could he know…?
“What reality?” I ask, defensive. “Whose reality? Yours? Mine?”
“The world’s,” he says. “There’s war and strife and poverty out there. There are people who think they live free but are trapped in the same nine-to-five for decades. When their life is over, when their light goes out, will anyone notice? Will anybody care? Oh, their family will know, their friends will know, but the world will keep on turning. Nothing will really change. Nothing will really be different. It happens all the time. Children are born and people die every single day. Have you been affected? Did it change anything about you?
“No,” he says. “No, it did not. And that’s the reality of our civilization. Unless you’re a star, unless you’re a celebrity, some type of known figure, the difference of the world in your absence and presence is null. There is no difference. It’s a sobering thought, but that’s the truth of life for so many of us. When you’re gone,” he asks, looking me straight in the eyes, “will any of it really matter?”
Holy shit he just cut close to the bone.
I have to put on a strong front. I can’t let him know how in tune his words are with the darkest emotions in me.
Neither can I pack up and run, like I did in his office.
So I just look back at him, trying to put on a stoic mask. “No,” I say. “You’re right, of course. None of it will.”
How that hurts to admit.
“But somehow, in the face of that, you maintain your innocence. You’re smart enough to recognize the truth in the things I said. And you’re still… you.”
“Maybe not as much as you think.” My words wilt a little.
James notices the emotion in my voice. He frowns. “Hey, are you okay? I didn’t depress you with all that, did I? It’s just… just how I am.” He shrugs.
“No,” I backtrack. “You did not. It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“That’s it, then, Celeste. That’s who I am. That’s what goes on up here.” He taps the side of his head. “Dark and gloomy thoughts. Life isn’t perfect. It’s not all peaches. And I’ve done better than most…” He shrugs again. “But I haven’t done it all. Not even close.”
“What more do you want?” I wonder.
He pushes off and walks back to the window, hands clasped behind his back. “I want… to find meaning, I think. All the material stuff is taken care of. Look around. That part of my life is set. And even if all this flutters away…” He looks around, “I’ve tasted it once. I won’t need more. And if everything really falls to the wayside…” His eyes glimmer, “I’m due for tenure at the end of the term. Did you know that? The university just told me.”
“Holy shit,” I say.
“Exactly what I thought!” he exclaims. “Ah, but that’s the benefit of being a celebrity. The university wants to tie itself to me very closely. Very… permanently.” He smirks. “There’s no denying tenure after it’s been given. It’s not like a marriage. You can’t just divorce. Either way, I’m guaranteed a salary for life.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” I wonder. “You don’t know who I am.”
“Ah, but I’ve seen you. I’ve seen you unguarded and pure. I’ve seen you as yourself. Can you deny we’re compatible? Personally, I think we make a great fucking match… in bed.”
“That much is true,” I admit.
“So then let’s not complicate things. Let’s keep it at that. No restrictions, no boundaries. No formal declarations of a relationship or anything like that, if that’s what you prefer. You and I—we’ll stay lovers.”
The way he says that makes goosebumps run down my spine.
Is that what I want? Do I want that sort of commitment from him?
Then again… it’s not like I’m breaking any new rules. All of the old ones were flung out the window long, long ago.
“Okay,” I say. “Yes, James. I can do that.”
He takes me by the waist. “That means this…” He looks at our touching bodies. “…is the beginning of something truly spectacular.”
26.
James wanted me to stay the night after our agreement, but I told him I had to get home. He protested; I insisted. He kissed me, and while I kissed him back, in the end I pushed off. Finally, he relented and drove me home.
To my surprise, I find Summer waiting for me in the living room when I return. Her eyes sparkle. “Go for a little ride, did you?” she asks. “I saw the Porsche dropping you off. Who is it?”
I freeze. She saw? Shit, how?
“Just a guy,” I tell her, trying to play it off.
“Oh, this wasn’t just a guy,” she says. She comes around the table and stops in front of me. “Oh my God, Celeste, look at you! You’ve been fucking all night long, haven’t you?”
My cheeks flame red.
“Ah-ah-ah. I knew it!” she exclaims. She grabs my hand and pulls me to the futon. “Come on now. Dish. You have to tell me everything!”
>
“There isn’t much to tell,” I defend.
“Your eyes tell a different story,” she says. “Come on. I have to know. Who is he? How’d you meet? Was he any good?”
“Oh yeah, he was good,” I mumble coyly.
“Hah!” she says. “See, I fucking knew it! So what happened? Did he wine and dine you before you gave up the snatch?”
My eyes bulge out at her. “Summer!”
“What? We all know how it works. Plus, honey, with a car like that, the least you should expect is a fancy dinner.”
“I ate with you. Remember? I cooked?”
“Oh. Right. Of course, duh, but I um, I snuck out for some real food after you left.”
“What? You didn’t like what I made?”
“It was… palatable,” she hedges. “I’m not giving you more credit than that.”
I laugh. “Fine. I know I’m not the greatest chef.”
“And it’s the thought that counts!” Summer stresses. “Besides, I—swear to God—I thought that’s where you went when you snuck out of the apartment. I assumed you wanted to get a pizza or something. Little did I know you were really after…” she winks, “…cock.”
I slap her arm. “Summer!”
“Just telling it how it is, babe. These lips?” She points at her mouth. “They have no filter. You know me.”
She sidles up to me. “So, tell me about this mystery man. Who is he? Where’d you meet? Do I know him?”
I know she’s going to be absolutely relentless if I don’t indulge her. “I’ll tell you where we met,” I say, “but that’s it. After that, we have to go to sleep. Look at the time. It’s almost four! And we’ve both got class in the morning.”
“Ugh, I know,” she agrees. “How about we skip? Stay up all night bingeing on ice cream and gossip like old times, back in high school?”
“Summer,” I fix her with a level look. “I’m not throwing myself forty thousand dollars in debt to play hooky!”
“Fine, fine,” she hedges, holding up her hands. “We’ll each get three hours of sleep. Happy? Although at this point,” she grumbles, “I’d almost rather stay up and pull an all-nighter.” She slides closer to me. “Time to dish. Tell me, tell me, tell me.”
Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set) Page 132