Misadventures in the Cage

by Sarah Robinson

  It had been four days since she’d last seen or spoken to Callan. Josie had busied herself with work, picking up extra shifts and keeping her phone off as much as possible. She didn’t want to talk to him. She didn’t want to hear about how he was moving on with his new family.

  One she wasn’t a part of.

  She didn’t want to have her heart broken more than it already was. And it truly was. With every minute he was gone, Josie realized more and more just how much he had meant to her. She regretted every second she’d held back. Why hadn’t she told him that she loved him, too? That she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him?

  Because that was the truth. The longer they were apart, the more that had become evident. She wouldn’t be this forlorn, this hurt, if she didn’t have real feelings involved.

  She loved him. It was that simple.

  “Gray, did you hear me?” Rockport called from the other side of the kitchen.

  She quickly snapped her head up. “Oh. Sorry. Say that one more time?”

  “I said your shift is over. Clock out. You’ve been here twelve hours straight.” Rockport looked down at his watch and shook his head. “I’m not about to have my new star chef burn out.”

  She washed her hands off and began unbuttoning her chef’s jacket. “Yes, sir.”

  Clocking out back in the office, Josie went about gathering her things. Turning on her cell phone for the first time all day, she wasn’t surprised when it buzzed a few dozen times with new messages and notifications. The first text message to pop up was from Callan.

  Can we talk?

  She paused. He’d been silent for days, but suddenly he was texting her that they needed to talk? Her stomach dropped as she realized this was probably his way of meeting to break up with her.

  Not answering yet, she opened up her Instagram app on her phone. Even though she knew it was torture, she couldn’t help but to go to Michelle Rae’s feed to see if she’d posted anything new. Sure enough, once she clicked through, she found a picture of Michelle and Callan in what looked like a doctor’s office. Michelle’s shirt was pushed up and a doctor was performing an ultrasound on her stomach. Both Callan and Michelle were radiating smiles and looked over the moon for their little bundle of joy.

  If she hadn’t already been worried that Callan was going to dump her, this photo confirmed it. He was moving on with his new family. He was happy with them—with her.

  Josie was an afterthought at best. A slice of his past.

  Returning to her text messages, she responded to him.

  Sure.

  He wrote back quickly.

  Tonight. O’Hannigans?

  She agreed and then stuck her phone in her pocket, ready to head home and take a long nap before heading out to get dumped at her favorite bar.

  A few hours later, Josie was finished preparing for the evening. She’d picked out one of her favorite cocktail dresses—not too fancy so as to stand out at the dive bar, but just stylish enough to look like she didn’t give a damn about any man. Her makeup was done perfectly, and her hair was set just the right way to make it look effortless.

  Walking into O’Hannigans, she glanced around the room to spot Callan. Not seeing him, she decided to take a seat at the bar.

  “One vodka on the rocks with lime, please,” Josie asked the bartender.

  He made it for her quickly, returning a glass to her. She took a sip as she looked around the room again.

  The front door to the establishment opened, and in walked the man she’d been waiting for. He had one hand in his suit pants pocket, and the other was fastening the buttons of his suit jacket. He looked like he’d just come from a professional event of some kind, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he had dressed up for her as well.

  “Callan,” she called out to him, waving her hand.

  He spotted her and came over, taking the stool next to hers at the bar.

  “Nice to see you,” he said before ordering a drink from the bartender. “I’m sorry I’ve been MIA for the last few days.”

  She shrugged. “It looks like you have a lot on your plate.”

  “You could say that.” He chuckled wryly, though nothing about it seemed sincere.

  “Callan…” She glanced down at her drink, stirring the small beverage straw with her fingers. “What are we doing here?”

  She wanted to rip off the Band-Aid. If he was going to break up with her, he should just do it. She couldn’t stand sitting here another minute thinking…what if?

  He didn’t respond right away. It looked like he was collecting his words, trying to find the most delicate way to let her down. Finally, he spoke.

  “Remember how we talked about me moving to Las Vegas? Moving in together? Settling down?”

  She nodded.

  He looked down again, this time fidgeting with the corner of the bar. “Michelle’s in Los Angeles. Our…our baby will be in Los Angeles.”

  “You can’t leave,” Josie finished for him.

  He shook his head slowly. “No. I can’t leave.”

  “And I just started my job here at Niro’s,” she added. “So…I can’t leave Vegas.”

  “You shouldn’t,” he quickly added. “Not when you have such an amazing opportunity here for you.”

  They were both quiet for a moment. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but rather…sad. Sorrow hung between them as they both realized what they were deciding.

  “Why does this feel so familiar?” Josie asked, barely above a whisper.

  Callan sighed, letting out a deep breath. “Because we did the same thing last year.”

  He wasn’t wrong. Last year, they’d both chosen their careers over having an “us.” This year, she was choosing her career and he was choosing his future family.

  “Timing has never been our strong suit, has it?” He chuckled again, but it sounded even more insincere than last time. It sounded strained…sad.

  “And so…here we are.” Josie looked up at him, really taking in his eyes and absorbing the emotions he was sharing in that moment. “Separating again.”

  “We could try long distance…” he offered, obviously trying to hold on to any lifeline.

  She didn’t want that. She knew he didn’t either. He needed to focus on his new son or daughter, not traveling to Vegas every week or even every other week if they switched off. He needed to be there for the pregnancy and the birth.

  He needed to be a father right now, not a boyfriend.

  “You know we can’t,” she replied. “You need to be there for Michelle.”

  He hung his head, a look of guilt crossing his face. “I know.”

  “One last drink?” she asked him, lifting her finger to the bartender to signal she wanted a second.

  “Sure,” he agreed, doing the same.

  Leaning toward her, he ran his hand up her leg and squeezed her knee. “I’m going to miss you, Jos.”

  A lump began to form in her throat. She could feel tears pricking at her eyes, but she pushed them away.

  “You know what? Cancel that drink,” Josie told the bartender, placing a few bills down on the counter.

  “What?” Callan looked confused.

  Josie stood from her stool and grabbed her purse. “I have to be up early in the morning,” she said, not looking him straight in the eyes.

  “Jos, don’t do this.”

  It was too late. She was shutting down. She was closing off every open, vulnerable side of herself because it was just too much. It hurt too much—he was hurting her too much. And so, she shut down entirely.

  “Don’t run off like this,” he repeated, taking her hand and trying to pull her in closer to him.

  She stepped back and shook her head. “It was nice seeing you, Callan. I hope everything goes well for you. You deserve it.”

  “Jos—”

  “Goodbye,” she said, cutting him off. With that, she left the bar as quickly as her legs could carry her without actually sprinting.

  The moment she go
t outside, the tears began to flow down her cheeks. Loud, heaving sobs racked through her as she fumbled with her phone and tried to call a Lyft to pick her up. Finally, she managed to secure one and slumped onto the curb while she waited.

  Even though she’d predicted that this was how tonight was going to end, she hadn’t been ready for it. It was one thing to know it was coming, but it was another to get slammed across the face with the reality of it all.

  “Jos, let me give you a ride.” Callan approached her from behind, catching her off guard.

  She quickly wiped at the tears on her face and tried to sniff it back. “I’m fine, Callan.”

  “You’re not fine. You’re crying.”

  Josie cut her eyes to him. “You’re so observant.”

  “Is this how you want to end things? You lashing out at me with sarcasm?” Callan folded his arms across his chest, looking exasperated and conflicted all at once. “I don’t want to remember us like this, Jos.”

  She paused for a moment, considering his words. He was right. She didn’t want to end things so coldly…so hostile. And yet, she couldn’t seem to shake the defenses that were climbing their way up between them and stopping any chance he had of getting through to her.

  Thankfully, her ride pulled up right then, and Josie stood and opened the passenger-side back door.

  “Jos,” Callan called after her quietly, his voice full of anguish.

  “I’ll see you around,” she responded, giving him a small wave. “Take care of yourself.”

  He stood stoically still, watching her get into the car and close the door. The car drove off, leaving a piece of herself shredded on the curb.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Five months later…

  “You don’t think the three different camera crews are a little excessive?” Callan leaned in close to Michelle and whispered in her ear. “It’s a baby shower. Not a circus.”

  She cut her eyes to him and shook her head. She ran a hand over her large, protruding baby bump. “We’re filming for the new show. The baby shower is going to be its own episode. Plus, People magazine is doing an early exclusive for us.”

  He furrowed his brow as he looked around the expansive backyard of his Los Angeles home that had been turned into a full-scale party site. Guests were due to arrive any minute, and they’d be hosting a giant combined baby shower and gender-reveal party. “So what’s the third camera crew for, then?”

  “Personal pictures and video. Don’t you want our future child to be able to look back and see what his or her own baby shower was like?” Michelle said it like it was obvious, but there was a hint of guilt-tripping in there as well.

  Callan wasn’t sure that made an entire film crew necessary, and he’d been against throwing a giant affair like this. But the mother of his child had insisted that this was what she wanted, and he didn’t want to say no. In fact, he hadn’t said no to any ridiculous request from Michelle in the last five months. While their relationship remained platonic—not for lack of trying on her part—he still bent over backward to accommodate her every whim and wish.

  Why? He wasn’t entirely sure. He told himself he was doing it because he wanted to be a good father, but…was this the way to do it? Every night he went home alone and lay in bed, thinking about his choices. Thinking about the woman he’d left behind to become a father.

  Admittedly, he spent more time than he should checking Josie’s Instagram page and following what she was up to. She looked…well, she looked happy. She often posted pictures of the food she was cooking, photos of her in the kitchen with her chef’s coat on, or pictures of places she traveled to on her days off. She seemed to make it a point to take trips almost every week—never staying in Vegas longer than she needed to for work.

  “Callan, are you listening to me?” Michelle interrupted, pulling him back to the party.

  “What? Sorry.” He returned his attention to his future baby mama.

  Michelle flared her nostrils in annoyance. “I was saying that someone needs to tell the valets where to park the cars.”

  He nodded. “I’ll do it.”

  Heading inside the house, he walked through and out the front door to the valet station, where attendants were waiting to park guests’ cars. He spent a few minutes showing them where to park and instructed them on what they needed. By the time he was done, guests were already starting to arrive.

  “Walsh!” Michael Rockport stepped out of his car—a black Range Rover—and handed his keys to the attendant while calling out to Callan.

  Callan waved a hand at his old friend. “Hey, Michael.”

  “How have you been?” Rockport asked him as they walked back into the house together. “It’s been a few months since I’ve seen you.”

  “Well, I’m having a baby,” he kidded, as if Rockport didn’t already know that.

  Rockport smacked him playfully on the back of his shoulder. “Congratulations, man. That’s amazing. My three kids are the joy of my life. I don’t even know what I did before them.”

  Callan smiled, thinking of holding his future kid in just a few short weeks. “I can’t wait, man.”

  “Where’s your lovely lady? How’s she feeling this far into the pregnancy?” Rockport asked.

  “She’s been doing surprisingly well. A little tired, but that’s about it,” Callan said. “But, she’s actually not my lady. We’re not together like that. We’re just co-parenting.”

  Rockport lifted his chin, nodding his head slightly. “Ah. I was wondering what was going on there after the Gray situation.”

  Callan was quiet for a moment as they stood out on the porch while a waiter delivered cocktails. “How is she?” he finally asked.

  “Gray?” Rockport replied. “She’s amazing. I’ve expanded her job to head chef, and she’s going to be taking over a second restaurant next week.”

  He lifted his brows. “Really?”

  “There’s even talk of a cooking show. Her previous producers from the reality show with her brother want to bring her back into the limelight again, but she won’t do anything unless it involves cooking.”

  “And you have your own cooking show,” Callan pointed out.

  “And my own production company,” Rockport reminded him. “Adding a female-driven cooking show to my portfolio might be just what I need.”

  “You should do it,” Callan encouraged his friend. “She’s talented. She’s charismatic. She’d be amazing at it.”

  “If she agrees. She’s been putting up a hard line about not wanting to get back into show business.”

  Callan didn’t doubt that, not after her previous experiences with the reality television world.

  “Her career is definitely blowing up,” Rockport continued. “It’s her time to shine, and she’s breaking into new markets, but…between you and me? I liked you and her a lot better than I like her new beau.”

  “She’s dating someone?” His stomach turned at the thought. He hadn’t seen any indication of her dating anyone on her Instagram page.

  Rockport nodded and then took a sip of his cocktail. “Well, it’s not like she opens up to me about her love life or anything,” he clarified. “But this skinny guy has been coming by pretty regularly. He’s very loud. And he always sends back his steak and asks for it to be well done. Who does that to steak?”

  Callan’s eyes widened as he started putting some pieces together. “Excuse me for a minute,” he told Rockport as he hurried off.

  After doing a few laps around the crowd that had already begun filling up the big tent they’d rented and doing his obligatory hellos to everyone, he spotted his target.

  “Samson!” Callan called out, gesturing for his assistant to follow him.

  Samson waved back and crossed the tent, coming to join him. They walked back toward the house, out of earshot from the rest of the party.

  “What’s up, boss?”

  “What the actual fuck?” Callan started, turning on his heels and staring down his assistant.
“What do you think you’re doing?”

  The young man threw his hands up in defense. “Whoa, cowboy. Let’s slow down for a second and catch me up. What are you talking about?”

  “You’ve been seeing Josie behind my back?” Callan clarified, his jaw clenched as he spoke.

  Samson gave him an awkward grin, looking sheepish and guilty as fuck. “Okay, well, to be fair…I didn’t know you knew about that.”

  “Samson!”

  “What? She’s really cool,” Samson said. “We’ve become good friends. You were an idiot for leaving her.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve been secretly running around town with my ex without telling me.” Callan practically growled out his words. “What happened to loyalty? You’re my assistant.”

  “Sure, but I’m Elliott’s husband, and he has had a girl crush on her for at least five years. So, when I found out you had the connect, I introduced myself. And now? Well, we’re good friends. She’s a really great person.”

  “I know she’s a really great person. I’m the one who’s in love with her.”

  Samson’s brows lifted. “In love…as in currently?”

  Callan paused for a moment, trying to absorb what he’d just said in the heat of the moment and reflect on how he really felt. It had been almost two years since he’d first met Josie and developed feelings for her. If he was being honest with himself, they hadn’t lessened any in that time. In fact, they’d only grown stronger.

  “I—I don’t know,” Callan clarified.

  “You’d better find out,” Samson said. “Because my girl is still holding a torch for you too.”

  “She is? How do you know that?”

  “Girl talk is a mandatory part of being the gay best friend.” Samson shrugged his shoulders like it was obvious. “But you have a limited window.”

  Callan frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, she finally said yes to a date with someone else.”

  He felt his stomach dropping. “And you didn’t stop her?”