by Ali Parker
“This.” I gestured back and forth between us. “You and me.”
“Of course, it’s been real! I made a mistake, Wes. I didn’t declare war on you! Jesus. I understand that you’re upset but I didn’t do this intentionally to hurt you. I made a mistake. I misspoke and said something stupid before I thought it through and—”
“And you never came clean until you absolutely had to,” I said.
Briar took her seatbelt off. She turned in her seat and tucked one leg under herself so she was facing me directly. She reached out, took my hands, and pulled them into her lap. Her hands were cold.
“Please, Wes,” she whispered as she ran her thumbs over my knuckles, “tell me how I can make this better. I didn’t do this to hurt you. I promise. I would never want to hurt you. I didn’t think about what I was doing. The words just spilled out of me. And you’re right. I should have come to you right away and said something but I think I was just hoping it would brush under the rug and I’d never have to think about it again because this means more to me than anything else.”
I studied her.
Was she telling the truth? I’d been betrayed before but it had never felt quite like this. I’d been blindsided. With every other woman who’d been with me for her own personal gain, there’d been a part of me that saw it coming. But with Briar?
This betrayal was extremely unexpected.
“Tell me how to fix this,” she whispered.
“You’re right,” I said coldly.
Her eyebrows lifted.
“You didn’t think.”
Briar let go of my hands and I pulled away. Tears clung to her lower lashes. “I just told you that you mean more to me than anything else and all you heard was that?”
“I need you to get out of the car.”
“What?”
“Get out of the car, Briar. I need to think. I need space. I can’t do this right now.”
Otherwise I’m going to say something I don’t mean and can’t take back.
Her tears fell free, but she turned, opened the car door, and got out. She leaned over, and I thought she might say something to me, but she changed her mind. She closed the door. She didn’t slam it. She walked out in front of the car as I reversed out of the stall and she used the sleeves of her sweater to wipe the tears from her cheeks as I peeled away with anger and betrayal eating away at my heart.
What had started as a great day full of things to celebrate had taken a sudden unexpected turn.
Why hadn’t she told me about this when she first slipped up with her co-worker? Why had she kept it a secret?
And what else did this journalist have on me because of Briar’s carelessness?
Chapter 27
Briar
You just had to open your big fat mouth, didn’t you?
My thoughts were not kind to me as I made the walk to mine and Sonia’s apartment in tears. Strangers shot me concerned looks as I passed them on the sidewalk. Well, the strangers who didn’t have their headphones in and their eyes glued to their phone screens did anyway. I did my best to ignore them. Making eye contact with someone who pitied me certainly wouldn’t make me feel better.
I was quite certain nothing would make me feel better right now.
I’d betrayed the man I was falling for.
Like a dumbass.
What had my oversight cost him? How far was this Kelly Green woman going to run with her story? Would she be able to do anything with the little information she had? She knew that I knew Parker, but she didn’t know who he was, what he looked like, or how involved we were.
A small part of me was optimistic that I’d avoided hot water with her. Another part felt like I was drowning and she was the one rocking the boat.
Bitch, I thought sourly.
No matter how much I wanted to blame Kelly Green for the hurt Wes had just inflicted on me, I couldn’t. The blame rested solely with me. I’d betrayed him. I’d done the one thing that to Wes was probably unforgivable.
I’d ruined the best thing that ever happened to me in a matter of seconds.
I ran a shaking finger under my eyes and swept away mascara and tears that stained the creases in my fingers. I sniffled and snorted and kept my head down as I hurried across the street to my apartment building. My fingers were so cold they were almost numb as I struggled to put them around the front door handle.
The lobby of the building greeted me with warmth and the smell of disinfectant and newspapers that spilled over the side of a recycling bin beside the mailboxes. I thanked my lucky stars that nobody was in the lobby or the elevator as I rode up to my floor.
I moved hurriedly down the narrow hallway, stopped at my front door, and stuck the key in the lock. The door swung open and Sonia, who stood at the kitchen sink with a rag in one hand and a bowl in the other, looked up at me with a grin.
“Oh hey,” she chimed, “I didn’t think you were coming home until later tonight. Did your shift get cut early?”
I closed and locked the door behind me and slumped against it, resting my forehead upon Sonia’s jacket that hung off the back of it.
“Briar?” Sonia turned the sink off. “Are you okay?”
I mumbled “no” into the jacket and shook my head.
Sonia’s bare feet padded across the kitchen floor and she stopped beside me. “You didn’t get fired, did you?”
I sighed heavily into the jacket and straightened. “No, I didn’t get fired.”
“What happened?”
“I made a stupid mistake and hurt someone I really care about.”
“Oooh. Are you talking about Shakespeare?”
I nodded.
In order to protect Wes’s privacy from my roommate, I’d taken to calling him Shakespeare in front of her. She’d found it equally as charming as I did.
“I’m sorry,” Sonia offered. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t think I have anything to say other than I’m so fucking mad at myself for being so stupid.”
“Did you guys break up?”
I shrugged. How would I know the answer to that? We were never officially together. There were never any discussions about being exclusive. We just loved each other’s company.
And bodies.
“I don’t know what happened.” I sighed. “He told me to get out of his car because he needed space and then he drove off and I walked back here.”
“How far did you have to walk?”
“Not even ten minutes. He didn’t leave me in an unsafe part of the city. Don’t worry. He just… he had every right to kick me out of the car.”
“What could you have done that was so bad?”
I wished I could tell her. I truly did. But that was the rub. I couldn’t.
Sonia understood my predicament. She offered me a warm smile and took her jacket off the hook on the back of the door. “I’ll tell you what. How about I run out and pick us up something to eat? You don’t have to talk about it. We can just sit and eat good food and watch a movie together and you don’t have to be alone. Okay?”
I swallowed past a swell of emotion. “That sounds really nice. Thank you, Sonia.”
“You got it. Any preferences? Pizza? Indian? There’s a great place down the block that has the absolute best pakora and butter chicken. Or we could do sushi? Donairs? Chicken basket?”
“Indian sounds delicious,” I said. “I just don’t know how much of an appetite I’ll have.”
“What you don’t eat, I will. That’s a promise.” Sonia opened the door and stepped into the hall. “Get comfy. Put on those cozy jammies of yours. Have a bath or shower or something. I’ll be back in half an hour.”
I gave her a tight-lipped smile that I hoped expressed my gratitude before she hurried off down the hall and I closed the door. I turned to face the empty apartment and struggled to find the energy just to drag my feet to the sofa, which I fell face first into so I could scream in frustration into the decorative throw pillow.
I thr
ashed and beat my fists into the pillow. “You’re such an idiot!”
I wailed into the pillow until my throat was hoarse and the tears wouldn’t come anymore. After that, I took Sonia’s advice and changed into my favorite pajama set. I made myself comfortable back on the sofa under a thin fleece blanket and pulled out my phone, hoping against all rhyme and reason that Wes might have texted me saying not to worry, that we would work through this, and that he just needed time to process.
There was no such message.
Desperate to quiet the bullying voices in my head, I called Madison’s phone.
She didn’t answer, so I called Riley.
Riley’s always bubbly voice filled the line. “Hey, babe!” She burst into a fit of giggles and I heard Madison cackling in the background. I could easily picture them both together in our old apartment, most likely cracking open an evening drink and getting ready to go out for dinner or make something themselves. “How are you? We were literally just talking about you and how much we miss your face. Madison, it’s Briar.”
Madison bellowed hello in the background.
I sniffled and cursed my turbulent emotions for betraying me.
Riley went quiet. “Briar? Are you okay? What’s wrong, babe?”
“I messed up,” I croaked. Fresh tears flowed freely. A sob escaped me and the guilt I’d been struggling to keep at bay came rushing back in.
“Oh no,” Riley said. “What happened? What do you need? Fuck. I wish I was there to give you a hug. Where are you?”
“My apartment.”
“Are you alone?”
“For now. My roommate is coming back with food and she’s going to keep me company.”
“I’m putting you on speaker,” Riley said. Seconds later, Madison said hello in an empathetic voice. Riley cleared her throat. “I’m glad you’re not alone. What’s going on, Briar?”
How did I tell them what had happened between me and Wes without compromising his identity?
“It’s hard to explain,” I said. “But bear with me.”
I told them all about how I’d met someone who chose to live outside the public eye but who would be decently famous should they decide to reveal their identity to the public. I explained how things had started between us, and how they heated up, and how genuine feelings started to form.
And I told them how I’d blown it all to hell by confiding in the wrong person.
“This Callie chick sounds like a bad egg,” Madison said.
“She’s not.” I sighed. “I never clarified how important it was not to say anything about this guy. She didn’t do anything wrong. I did.”
Riley made a thoughtful sound in the back of her throat. “Does this happen to have anything to do with this writer friend of yours you told me about? What’s his name? Wes?”
My stomach churned.
Could I seriously not keep my mouth shut?
“No,” I said. “This is someone else.”
Riley bought it. “Well, personally, I think it’s a little unrealistic to ask someone else to keep a secret for you.”
“Agreed,” Madison said. “If this guy really didn’t want it getting out there, he shouldn’t have told you in the first place. It’s not an easy thing to carry around something like that and not slip up.”
“We’re your best friends and you can’t even tell us,” Riley said. “That hardly seems fair.”
I hadn’t even thought about it like that for a second. I’d been so consumed with doing right by Wes that I hadn’t factored in how much thought actually had to go into preserving his anonymity.
“I just feel terrible,” I whispered. “I don’t think he’s going to forgive me. And… And…”
“And what, babe?” Riley pressed.
“And I don’t know what New York holds for me if I lose him. I know how lame that sounds but I mean it. He makes this place worthwhile for me. If I lose him…” I trailed off as the tears threatened to choke me up. I shook my head at myself. “I came here to make a future for myself. I never wanted a man. He was never part of the plan. But now it’s all so screwed up.”
“How can we help?” Madison offered.
“Tell us what you need.”
I wiped my nose with my sleeve. “I wish I was there with you guys.”
“Then come home,” Madison said simply. “Don’t let pride keep you there. If you want to come home then come home. Your room is still the same. We’ll make you chicken noodle soup. From a can, of course. You know us bitches can’t cook worth shit.”
I snorted and chuckled all at once.
“And we’ll take care of you,” Riley said. “We miss you, Briar. Let us help you get back on your feet. Don’t let this dude ruin it for you.”
I sighed and slumped back against the sofa. “I feel like such a failure.”
“Why?” my friends asked in unison.
I stared up at the ceiling. “You guys were right all along. New York is too big for a small town girl like me. I should’ve stayed where I belong. I never should have let my imagination lead me out here.”
“Babe,” Riley said, her voice full of compassion. “Don’t talk like that. Shit happens.”
“Some things are out of our control,” Madison said.
“Just come home,” Riley said.
I closed my eyes and nodded as more tears ran free.
How could you have been foolish enough to believe that you, a nobody from North Carolina, could have been anything more than a muse to a man like Wes Parker?
Chapter 28
Wes
Walker investigated my liquor collection on Tuesday evening. It was dark out. Full night had arrived and it was only half past eight. There were hardly any stars in the sky and the moon was blocked by clouds. The city lights seemed even brighter than usual because of this.
Walker rubbed his jaw. “For a guy with a lot of money, you sure don’t have a good stash of booze. What do I have to do around here to get a good bourbon?”
“I don’t like bourbon.”
“Maybe because you have shit taste and you’re not buying the right stuff.” He straightened and looked over his shoulder at me. “Besides, what sort of writer worth his salt doesn’t like bourbon?”
“This writer. And I happen to be very successful sans bourbon.”
“Imagine how successful you could be with bourbon.”
“The word bourbon is getting under my skin.”
Walker grinned. “Bourbon.”
“Why are you here again?”
Walker threw his head back and laughed. He resigned himself to pouring a glass of whiskey which he would probably complain about shortly. Once his glass was one quarter full with dark amber liquid, he made his way over to me and sat down on the opposite sofa. “I’m here because you called me all bent out of shape about Briar. And, naturally, as a concerned friend, I rushed to your aid.”
“You just wanted the drama.”
“I was worried you might do something reckless. Like start writing about how you feel.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re literally the last person I should’ve called about this.”
“You’re not wrong. But you did call. And here I am. Your knight in shining armor.”
“Don’t.”
“You love it.”
“I really don’t,” I said.
Walker and I had been friends a long time. Our back and forth had often been called “marital banter” by our mutual friends. There was no one who could irritate me quite like Walker. There was also nobody who understood me quite like him, either.
“Okay, tell me what happened,” Walker said, kicking his heels up on my coffee table. “What made everything go to shit today?”
I sighed heavily and thumbed the neck of the beer bottle in my hand. The bottle had been sweating and left a damp ring on the knee of my jeans. “Briar told one of her co-workers who I am.”
Walker paused with his drink halfway to his lips. “As in, she told someone that you’re
W. Parker?”
I nodded. “Yep.”
“Oh. Fuck.”
“Yep,” I said again. No other words came to mind.
“How did that happen?”
“She claims it was a spur of the moment, didn’t realize what she was saying, had no ulterior motives situation.”
“And you don’t buy that?”
“Not really. I mean. I don’t know. Maybe? Fuck.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “It’s been an incredibly frustrating afternoon. I guess I just never expected her of all people to be the one who blew it out of the water and slipped up.”
“What, you thought it might be me?”
I scowled at him. “I’m not in the mood for your fuckery.”
He snickered. “You’re never in the mood for my fuckery.”
“True.”
Walker tapped his finger on the side of his glass and watched me. “What’s the most frustrating part about it? That she’s the one who said something?”
“She told her co-worker two weeks ago and never told me.”
“Ah. Because she didn’t think it was a big deal or because she was afraid you’d freak out?”
“I don’t know.”
Walker frowned. “You know, maybe you wouldn’t feel so conflicted if you’d actually talked to her about it. What happened after she told you?”
“I, uh, I asked her to get out of my car and I drove off.”
Walker gave me an even and unreadable stare. “Right. And she’s supposed to be the asshole in this situation?”
“She betrayed me.”
“Not deliberately.”
“We don’t know that.”
Walker shrugged. “True, but based on everything you’ve told me about the girl, she hardly seems like the type to do something like that to you on purpose. People still make honest mistakes these days, you know. She’s not a character in your book. You can’t pull the strings and call the shots. She has to be able to make the wrong choice every now and then. Pick the wrong road.”