I nodded, reaching into my bag for the flash drive containing my book.
“Excellent. I’d be happy to read through the rest, maybe show it to a few more people in the office.”
“Wow. That would be awesome.”
“It’s no problem.” She took a sip of her latte. “Charlie said you were very talented and I’d be crazy not to take an interest.”
I laughed. “I’ll have to make sure to thank him.”
She glanced down at her watch. “I should be getting back. I’m glad we had the chance to meet.”
I shook her hand, surprised and kind of amused when she leaned in and kissed both of my cheeks with a loud, “mwah.” I guess that was how literary people said goodbye.
“Ellen, thank you, really. This was incredibly helpful to me.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I’ll be in touch.”
Then she breezed out on a cloud of expensive-smelling perfume, leaving me reeling in my seat.
Wow. Wow! I’d had my first critique from a real live editor. And she’d liked my book! I replayed her words over and over as I got into the car: “maybe show it to a few more people in the office.” What if she showed it to one of her bosses? What if they liked it too?
Don’t get ahead of yourself, I told myself, as I pulled out onto Santa Monica Boulevard and headed for home. Just enjoy this for what is was—the chance to get advice and feedback from an actual working editor.
I whistled the whole way home.
***
I was surprised to find Thomas at the house when I got there. His shoes were kicked off by the door, and I smiled to myself as I imagined the way he always shed things as he walked through the house. Sure enough, his jacket was tossed over the side of the couch in the living room. “Thomas?” I called out. “You here?”
“Outside!”
I walked through the open glass door to find him sitting on the deck, his feet bare and resting on the opposing chair, his tablet on his lap.
“Hey, love,” he said, smiling at me. He slid his feet down so I could sit across from him but pulled me down for a kiss first. “How was your day?”
“Great,” I said, deciding to sit on his lap instead. He hadn’t been home until right before I went to bed the night before, and I’d missed him. I wanted his arms around me now. He didn’t complain, setting the tablet on the table before wrapping me up in his arms and pulling me against his chest.
“That’s better,” he murmured, kissing my head. “I was about to start dinner, but let’s sit for a bit first.”
“Okay.” I snuggled into his chest. “How was your day?”
“Good. We actually finished up early, so I jumped at the chance to go home.”
“I wasn’t expecting you yet. I’m glad to be surprised.”
“So, what’d you get up to?”
I sat up a little bit so I could look at him. “I actually had a great day.”
His eyebrows went up. “Yeah?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Do you remember that friend of Charlie’s, Ellen? The one who works for the publishing house in New York?”
He shook his head, looking confused.
“He told me about her before we left London. He sent her my book? I could have sworn I told you this.” When he still shook his head, I went on. “Well she’s in L.A. for a conference this week, and she asked Charlie if I could meet her! Can you believe that? She asked me if I could have coffee and did an awesome critique on my book for me.”
“Wow,” Thomas said, shaking his head. “That’s wonderful news. How’d the critique go?”
“It was really helpful. I mean, it totally freaked out me out at first until I realized how valuable her advice was. She seems to really like my book, Thomas.” I felt the familiar rush of butterflies in my stomach. “God, I was so nervous. She works for like, a really major publishing house. She said she might show it to some people she works with. What if they like it too? Do you know what that could mean?”
He nodded, and I realized suddenly that he didn’t look nearly as happy for me as I would have expected.
“Is something wrong?”
He was quiet for a moment. “I’m really happy for you, Lizzie. Of course. But I…I wonder why you were okay taking a meeting with Charlie's friend but you wouldn't take one with the agent Heidi told us about.”
I frowned. I’d forgotten all about that conversation. Heidi had mentioned a literary agent friend she was meeting up with one day, totally off-hand. Thomas had tried to convince me to let him talk to her, see if she could arrange a meeting. I’d refused, thinking it was too much like nepotism. But that had been months ago. “Thomas, I told you that made me uncomfortable—”
“Yeah, I know. You said because it felt too much like taking advantage of our relationship. So why did it feel different to take help from Charlie?”
I gaped at him. He almost sounded jealous. “Because I’m not sleeping with Charlie,” I blurted out.
Thomas’s face tightened. “So it’s okay to take help from friends but not from your boyfriend. Right. Got it.”
“Don’t be like that, Thomas,” I said, shaking my head.
“I don’t see how else I’m supposed to be. You totally freaked out when I even mentioned talking to Heidi. But you have no issue at all with Charlie knowing someone. It’s crap.”
My stomach felt heavy. “You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
I stared at my hands. “People already think stuff, okay, just because I’m living here with you.”
“What does that mean?”
“Oh, come on, Thomas.” I gestured around at the palatial property. “I’m obviously not contributing to the rent on this place.”
“Neither am I. The studio arranged it.”
“Yeah, as part of your compensation for the movie. You’re working to be here. I’m just…sponging.”
“You are not sponging.” He looked like he wanted to laugh. “You work hard everyday. Come on, Lizzie.”
“You know that’s not how people see it, though. They look at me and they think, ‘Oh, she’s so lucky to have that rich boyfriend taking care of her.’”
“Is this about Lola? About what she said at our party?”
I squirmed. “A little.”
“That’s silly, Lizzie. She’s a horrible cow, you know that.”
“She’s not the only one who thinks that. My sister—”
“I thought you were done letting Maria affect your decisions?”
I threw up my hands. “I am, obviously. I’m here, aren’t I? But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting a little, when I know that people are thinking I’m just a gold digger or something—”
He did laugh then. “Give me a break. You’re so far from being a gold digger it’s ridiculous. Getting you to accept a present is like pulling teeth.”
I scowled at him. “Not everyone knows that.”
“But why do you care?”
“I just do!” I didn’t understand why this was so hard for him to understand. We’d had this discussion a dozen times. “I’m sensitive about money stuff, okay?”
“We’re supposed to be partners though. Isn’t that what a relationship is about?”
I climbed out of his lap and sat on the opposing chair, too agitated to be that close to him. “Yes. Which is why I’m working on it. It’s why I didn’t try to convince you to go for a cheaper house just to make me feel better. It’s why I didn’t argue about the car thing. It’s why I smiled in silence while you spent money on whatever you felt like in Vegas. I’m trying to let it go. But there are certain things…I would just rather it didn’t appear to the world that I completely rely on you, okay?”
He sighed, running his hands through his hair. “Fine.”
I felt embarrassed and flustered. I hated talking about money and reliance. I wasn’t joking when I said it was something I was sensitive about. It had been this way my entire life, the byproduct, surely, of being raised by first and second generation p
arents. Whether Thomas wanted to acknowledge it or not, there was a stigma that went along with being of Mexican descent where I came from. There would always be people who assumed my family was illegal. Job-stealers. Taking advantage of the system. I had heard it all.
Being a woman dating a rich and famous actor didn’t help my desire to be seen as independent.
“I’m sorry,” Thomas said, sighing again. “I totally ruined that, didn’t I?”
I looked up at him. “What?”
“Your day. Your news. You were so excited when you got home, and now you look like you want to cry. I’m sorry, Lizzie.”
“It’s okay.” He reached for me, and I slipped back onto his lap. “We need to stop fighting about money stuff, though. It’s stupid.”
“You’re right. I’ll try to be more cognizant of the fact that you’re trying not to let stuff bother you. But you need to try and remember that I want to help you because I love you and I believe in you. Not because I don’t think you can do it on your own.”
I nodded, leaning into his chest and resting my forehead against his. “I’m glad you’re home. I’ve been missing you.”
“I’ve been working too much. I hate that you’re here alone so much. This movie is a lot more complicated than I realized.”
“Is everything going okay?”
He sighed again, and I thought for a moment that he was about to say more, but he just nodded. “It’s fine. Let’s go make dinner, yeah?”
“Okay.”
“One sec.” He kissed me softly then smiled. “There. That’s better.”
I smiled too. “Much better.”
Chapter Eight
It was very strange, trying to get into the Christmas spirit when it was seventy and sunny out. I had grown up in a place where snow was expected before Christmas. Even in London it had been a little bit strange—there’d been more rain than snow in December last year. But at least it had been cold there. Here in L.A. I couldn’t help but shake my head when I entered a department store and heard Christmas music when I was wearing shorts and flip-flops.
To my very great excitement and relief, however, we weren’t staying in California for the actual holiday. Thomas had a full two weeks off from his movie responsibilities, and we were spending every minute of it in the UK, first at his parents in Edinburgh for Christmas and then down in London for the New Year. I couldn’t wait—couldn’t wait to be with family and friends again, couldn’t wait to be surrounded by people, instead of so often alone while Thomas worked. Couldn’t wait for him to be home more, period.
It was strange. I had grown up in a house constantly filled with people. Between my five siblings, countless cousins, nieces and nephews, and aunts and uncles, there were few moments of peace and quiet in my life. It used to drive me crazy, the noise of all those people, the way everyone would talk at once, breaking out into Spanish as often as they broke into laughter. The first few months in London with Callie I had relished the relative peace and quiet of our flat.
Here in Malibu, however, the quiet was starting to grate on me. I spent most days working in the office with Imogen and Heidi. When they left at the end of the day, I’d have the spacious, perfect house to myself, sometimes for hours, depending on how long Thomas had to work. Some days Imogen would assist Heidi at meetings, and I’d be completely alone all day. It was the perfect environment for working on my book. Or sitting and reading quietly. And I liked it, for the most part.
But I was also starting to get really sick of it.
“You won’t have to worry about that in Edinburgh,” Thomas said when I confessed this to him. He had found me in the living room, the television set to a Spanish language channel, the volume turned up loud even though I wasn’t really watching it. In fact, I was making notes on my manuscript at the time, and he couldn’t understand why I wanted so much noise in the background.
“It’s not quiet in Edinburgh?” I asked. “I’m picturing snow-covered, rolling hills. Silent and starry night skies.”
“Oh, we have that for sure. But inside the house at Christmas time, it’s not exactly ‘Silent Night.’”
I grinned. “Tell me about it.”
He pulled me close on the couch, muting the television. “Well, my grandparents will be there, and they’re both pretty much completely deaf at this point, so there’s a lot of shouting from their end of the table.”
I smiled. I hadn’t met his grandparents yet, but he had told me that they’d been married for sixty years and that they were just as much in love as they’d ever been.
“What else?”
“My Uncle Harold and Aunt Hildy will be there, with a few of my cousins. And one of those cousins has two really awful children.”
“Thomas!”
“What? They are. They whinge about everything, and Timothy totally lets them get away with murder. They’re monsters, really.”
I hit his arm, but I was laughing. “That’s an awful thing to say about children.”
“Being awful doesn’t make it any less true.”
I smiled, leaning my head onto his shoulder. “It sounds nice to me. Families should be noisy, especially around the holidays.”
I looked to the television, and his gaze followed mine. “You miss them.”
I nodded, squeezing my eyes shut. Last year was supposed to be my first Christmas away from home, and I’d been depressed about it for weeks. When Thomas realized I wasn’t going home because I couldn’t afford the airfare, he’d bought us both tickets to Detroit as my Christmas present.
“I’m sorry, Lizzie. Are you sure you don’t want to go anyhow? We could stay in a hotel, you know, and only visit with the family that you felt comfortable with.”
I shut my eyes, shaking my head. “It wouldn’t work out.” I could picture exactly what would happen if I showed up in Detroit for Christmas. My mother would insist that we be welcomed home like anyone else in the family. My dad would never try to keep her from letting us in; his response would be much more passive aggressive. I could see him now, spending the entire holiday in the garage. My oldest brother Carlos would be with him, always loyal to my dad. And Maria would either feign illness and not attend or be there and ignore me the entire time. And my mother would be furious at all of them.
“I don’t want to put my mom in that position,” I said softly. “Ninety-five percent of the family would be perfectly civil to us. But my dad…I don’t want her to be in the middle.”
He sighed. “I hate that you’re sad about it.”
“I’m only a little sad.” I turned to face him. “The rest of me is actually really excited about spending the holidays with your family. You know how much I love them.”
He grinned. “My mother is pretty thrilled that we’re coming.”
I fiddled with the hem of my shorts for a minute, feeling a little shy. “This is probably how it will be from now on, you know? Splitting holidays with our families. Isn’t that what serious couples usually do?”
“Are we a serious couple?”
Even without looking at him I could tell that he was smiling, teasing me. I tossed a throw pillow at him.
“Hey!”
“Don’t tease,” I said, looking up at him. Just as I thought, he was smiling his little amused smile. God, he was handsome.
“I would never dream of teasing you, Lizzie Medina.”
I snorted. “Yeah, right.”
He pulled me into a kiss. “I just want you happy. You know that, right?” he whispered against my mouth.
I nodded. “I am happy to be going to the UK. I mean that.”
He nodded, too. “You know, all this talk of holidays reminds me that I haven’t bought a single gift.”
I laughed. “We’re leaving in less than a week!”
“Then I guess we better go shopping, yeah?”
I felt strangely giddy to be doing something as benign as Christmas shopping with Thomas. It felt like all of our time together lately had been in the house. Not that the house
wasn’t amazing, but it would be nice to actually see some of California with him while we were there.
Thomas happily volunteered to drive, and we headed downtown to the open-air mall on Third Street. He wore a hat and sunglasses, and I crossed my fingers he wouldn’t be recognized. It no longer felt as surreal to me as it had in the early days after Hostile—his break-out project—took off, but it still wasn’t something I wanted to experience that night. I wanted to pretend, for a few hours at least, that we were just a normal couple.
We ended up at the Apple store, Thomas debating whether or not his parents would like a tablet. “They aren’t the techiest of people,” he said. “They’ve only recently mastered email.”
“But this way you could video chat with them,” I said.
He looked down at me. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?”
I laughed. “Your mom would probably like it.”
He ended up buying the tablet, probably just to get it over with. He wasn’t big on shopping for gifts.
“What about Charlie?” I asked. “They’ll be in town for New Year, right?”
“I actually have Charlie taken care of.” He smiled proudly. “I’ve enrolled him in a beer-of-the month club.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, Callie will love that.”
“We could get her a matching gift,” he said. “Would she like a wine-of-the-month membership?”
“That might be out of my price range.” Last Christmas I had bought Callie a cute necklace from Accessorize for five pounds.
But Thomas merely shook his head. “This is a joint gift.”
I considered arguing, but one look at his firm expression changed my mind. I didn’t want another argument so close on the heels of the last one. “Okay,” I said, and he grinned encouragingly. “Callie would love that.”
We were able to knock Thomas’s siblings off the list fairly quickly. Thomas found an Arsenal scarf in a soccer store for Paul, and Mrs. Harper had sent word that Paul’s wife, Mary, was in need of a piece of Le Creuset cookware in a very specific size. Apparently Mary always made detailed lists around the holiday to save people from having to put too much energy into gift buying for her.
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