I go back to my seat at the bar, and Chelsea is staring at me like she is trying to figure me out.
“You’re in love with her. That’s a huge relief. I was beginning to think I lost my touch.” She laughs.
“I’m not in love with her. She’s a client. I was just confirming some interviews for next week,” I state emphatically. Lies. All lies.
“You look at her like she’s the only person in the room. Like she’s your oxygen.”
I stare at her. Hearing someone say it out loud somehow makes it real. It heightens my discomfort. It makes me realize that I am on a runaway train, and there’s no way to stop it. I need to jump off. I need to disengage. Pushing her away is the only way for both of us to move on. She needs a man who doesn’t carry the emotional baggage that I have. She needs someone like Grayson.
Addie
Fun fact. I am a lunatic.
This emotional rollercoaster ride is making me nauseous. Or quite possibly, it’s the alcohol. Either way, I’m lying in bed, dreading my date with Grayson. Maybe I should make a spreadsheet of the pros and cons. I am kind of a visual person. The interaction with Jameson confused me even more. He’s always either super cold or scorching hot. And when I say hot, I’m not even talking about his looks. Even though I was pissed last night, I still wanted to kiss his stupid face. Ugh! My tongue currently feels like a cotton field.
I slowly leave the comfort of my bed. The tiny hammers in my head make my eyes hurt, along with the ringing in my ears. Oh, wait, that’s my phone. God, who the hell is calling me? I don’t even look over to see the name.
“Hello?” I grimace at the echo I feel in my head.
“Addie? Why do you sound so weird?” It’s Nina’s voice. Jesus, why is she talking so loudly?
“Well, someone drank the equivalent of a truckload of alcohol. So now that someone is dying. I think I need to cancel my life. Can you take care of that for me?” I say it quietly. It hurts to talk.
“That would be Jameson’s job. You all need to talk. This tango you’re doing is ridiculous. He wants you. You want him. Just do the deed for the love of God.” She sounds annoyed.
“No, thank you. I’m good. Going out with Grayson tonight.” I say it with conviction as I try to convince myself that this date is a good idea.
“Yeah, well, do you think you can give Grayson your full attention when you’re still stuck on Jameson? I mean, won’t your hoo-ha be confused?”
“First of all, please stop referring to my hoo-ha. Sure, we’re experiencing a hiatus, but everyone has adapted. I am not having sex with anyone. It’s a date and nothing more.”
“Hiatus? Honey, your hoo-ha has checked into a nursing home. They’re getting ready to call hospice. The situation is dire.” She’s laughing and, well, she might have a point.
“Stop. You’re making me laugh, and that makes those little hammers in my head beat faster. I need water and aspirin along with a very greasy meal.”
“Okay. Call me after your date. Hopefully, your hoo-ha will get a little action before they take her off life support.” She laughs.
We end our call, and I head toward the bathroom, where the promise of relief resides in the medicine cabinet. I swallow the aspirin and a full glass of water. My door buzzer rings. What now? I shuffle to the door. My feet have also rejected the premise of moving quickly.
“Yes?”
“Addie, it’s your father.” He sounds different.
“Owen isn’t here.” I hope that will be enough for him to simply
leave.
“I’m not here to see Owen. I need to talk to you.” Reluctantly, I buzz him up. This is not helping my hangover. Why is the universe conspiring against me?
When I open the door, I’m not prepared for the look of regret that he seems to be wearing. Maybe it’s my imagination. I move to the side as he walks into my apartment. He smiles a little as he looks around, taking in my small abode, and then focusing on my shelves of books. He runs his hands over them.
“You always loved books. Sometimes you would disappear for hours. When I would find you, you looked so happy.” His expression is sad. Regretful. I notice that his hands are shaking, and his eyes are sunken.
“Books make me happy. They’re my escape.” Escape from the dysfunction. Escape from the reality of a loveless family. Escape from self-doubt. And right now, I would love to escape.
“Addie, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry for the way this whole situation has unfolded. It wasn’t my intention.” His eyes are watery.
“What is your intention? You abandoned us and left me to pick up the pieces. I was ten. Mom couldn’t cope with Owen after you left, so it all fell on me. Me!” I realize that I’m yelling. I take a breath.
“I know. I regret everything. There are things you don’t know. All I can say is that once you’re aware of the facts, you might be able to understand why I did what I did.” He walks to the door and turns to me. “I’m proud of you, Addie.” And then he leaves, and I’m even more confused than ever. My life seems to be a series of unfortunate events with a cast of characters I wish would leave me the hell alone.
Jameson
The day after my exchange with Addie, I feel like shit. I know what I need to do. I need to relinquish my duties as her publicist. Maybe I’ll talk to Harrison and see if he can take over for me. It isn’t good for us to work together with so much tension. A little distance will be for the best. I am excellent at justifying and rationalizing my actions.
Then I think about her date with Grayson, and my fists clench, my jaw ticks, and my heart constricts. I don’t know when it happened, but at some point, Addie wormed her way into my life. She needs a man who isn’t plagued by the darkness of his past and who doesn’t break out into a sweat just thinking about commitment. But even if I turn my duties over to Harrison, I still want to get to the bottom of the drama surrounding her father, Dorothy, and how the senator fits into all of this.
I head into the office, convinced that this is the right move—that taking a step back is the best choice for everyone involved. I knock on Harrison’s door.
“Come in.” I step into his ultra-modern space with its floor to ceiling windows. Enlarged photos of the company’s clientele decorate the walls. Clean lines and no clutter. Harrison has a bit of OCD, and his idea of design is that less is better. If he were a client, I’d have to publicize him as minimalist. Whatever.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here? I don’t believe we’ve met. You’ve been avoiding me.” His eyes twinkle with mischief.
“It isn’t avoidance. It’s called being busy. Addie’s schedule has been insane, never mind my other clients. Oh, by the way, I met with Chelsea last night. She’s all set to get started making the rounds. She has her schedule.”
“Will you be paying her the same close attention as you do, Addie?” He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows.
“About Addie, I need you to take over her account. I think it would be best for everyone. Our interactions are becoming uncomfortable, and I feel like a little distance would be helpful.” I can’t even look him in the eye.
“Does this have anything to do with the little exchange you had with her last night?”
“Fucking Nina! Jesus, does she tell you everything? Is she the town crier?” I notice some defensiveness cross his face. There’s something between him and Nina. Hmm…interesting.
“No, not everything, but she did seem to think that you two need to just go for it. However, I’ll take over her account—for now. How about we table this discussion and have drinks tonight? You can tell me all about how you don’t want to date Addie.” He laughs, and I shake my head. “Even with the distance, I don’t think it’s going to help shake her presence.” He speaks the truth, but at this point, I have no choice. I need to keep this professional.
“I’m meeting with Grady tomor
row.” I’ll fill him in on the latest information I have. “Hopefully, I’ll find out what the hell is going on with Addie’s father, the senator, and her cousin-in-law, Dorothy. It’s the least I can do.”
“So, you don’t want to represent her, but you want to get to the bottom of her family drama. It sounds like someone has a heart,” he says. I cross my arms over my chest.
“I just want to make sure that Addie and Owen are safe.” I avoid eye contact with him because the truth is that they are both important to me. Imagining a life without them makes the emptiness I feel even darker.
“Come on. I’m done here, and I think you could use that drink. Have you told Addie about not being her publicist anymore?”
“No, I haven’t. Her New York book launch party is tomorrow night. Can you handle that?”
“Of course. She deserves to hear about the change in representation from you, though. I hope you know what you’re doing.” There’s a look of concern in his eyes.
I stay silent because truth be told, I have no fucking idea what I’m doing.
Addie
As I prepare for my date with Grayson, my stomach churns. He’s a nice guy, but my truth lies in the reality that he doesn’t stir me. My lady bits whisper “meh” when I’m around him, except when he kisses me, and I picture Jameson. Jameson sends them into a ticker-tape parade complete with those large balloons that take a whole group of people to wrangle. I love those balloons. Do you understand the chaos in my mind? Damn Jameson. He ruins everything.
I shift my mind to picking out an outfit. Fortunately, George has arranged my closet so that the selection process is easy. I decide on some fitted jeans that form to my curves with a frilly fuchsia blouse. One of the biggest blessings to come from this journey has been George. Not only did I gain a friend, but he has helped me obliterate how I view my body. I feel sexy and confident.
I meet Grayson at Gino’s Restaurant & Pizzeria. A quick cab ride and I arrive. The hostess leads me to a cozy table in the back, where Grayson is sipping wine. He grins at me as he rises from his seat to pull out my chair. Always the gentleman. We make small talk, and the waitress brings me a glass of the house wine. I need a little liquid courage to tell him that as nice as he is, this isn’t ever going to be anything but a friendship. Have you ever been with someone and you aren’t present? Well, I’m having that experience now. I’m physically here, but emotionally, I’m absent.
“Alright, Addie. Spill.” Grayson leans back in his chair as he observes me carefully.
“Spill what?” I scan the room, avoiding his eyes.
“I like you, and I want to spend time with you, but I feel like we aren’t on the same page.”
I meet his eyes. And this, my friends, is when I give the “it’s not you, it’s me” speech. The irony is that my whole life, in every relationship I’ve ever had, whether it was boyfriends or family, this was the speech that I always received—always feeling like I was never enough. Now, in a twist of fate, I’m saying those words to someone else.
“Oh, Grayson. I’m so sorry.” I close my eyes and exhale.
“It’s your publicist, isn’t it? He’s the one who’s taking up all that space in your mind. Do you think I didn’t notice how often you looked at him while we were at the hotel bar in L.A.? I was just hoping that the more time we spent together, the less you would think about him.” Jesus, is he a mind reader?
I sigh.
“Yes. It isn’t like anything will ever happen between us, but I can’t help how I feel, and that isn’t fair to you. You deserve someone who is a hundred percent invested, and that isn’t me.” As the words spill out, there’s a sense of relief about being completely honest with someone instead of stuffing my feelings deep inside and allowing them to fester. I put on my big girl panties, and it feels pretty good.
He frowns at me. “Addie, I just don’t get it. Why would you even waste time on a guy who isn’t going to take things to the next level? I mean, seriously, I could have any girl I want. Right now, I could walk over to the bar and pick up that blond. She would be totally into me. But I’m sitting here with you, ready to move forward with you regardless. Jesus, I thought you would be different.”
“Ummm…different? Why is that? Is it because of my looks? Because I’m not a size two like the cheerleaders from high school?” My insecurities are bubbling up and spewing out all over this conversation.
“Well, yes and no. No, because you were always such a bright light. I remember in high school how kind you were to everyone even if they were assholes to you. And yes, because I thought there wouldn’t be any competition for your attention. Plus, I kind of have a thing for chubby chicks. Kind of a win-win.” He winks.
“Wow, okay. I don’t even know how to respond to that. I think I’m just going to go. I don’t want to stop you from snagging someone more your speed.” I chug my drink because I’m classy like that, stand up, flip him off, and strut out of the restaurant.”
As my feet hit the sidewalk, I exhale. Tears prick my eyes. I flag down a cab and head home. My mother’s tapes play in my head.
“Mom, I got invited to prom. Can we go shopping for a dress?”
Her eyes narrow. “Who in the world would ask you to prom?” Her tone drips with disgust.
“Milton Simpson. He’s in my chemistry class.” My enthusiasm has already dwindled. I don’t know what I expected. My unrealistic expectations always get me hurt.
“I suppose we can go shopping, but it will have to be a plus-size store, and we’ll go to the boutique in the next county. I don’t want my friends to see me.”
“Oh, well, that’s okay. I can just go myself,” I whisper.
“Take my card, and don’t forget to buy a girdle or something that will hide all that fat.” She hands me the card and walks out of the room. I stand there with tears streaming down my face.
Dismissed. My life has been a series of dismissals. But now I have the opportunity to create something with all of this discomfort. I have choices. I can take on the role as a victim, or I can take my place as a victor. My book was the first step. I wipe my tears, take a breath, and resolve that I will never allow anyone else’s words to define me again.
Jameson
I’m meeting Grady at a nearby coffee shop, and I’m a little nervous about what’s he going to tell me. I locate him settled in the corner. He waves me over, and I sit down across from him. He slides a thick manila envelope toward me. I hesitate.
“It’s all there. There are photos of the various meetings between Dorothy and the senator, as well as Addie’s father. Dorothy is the puppet master. There are also bank transactions that indicate Dorothy is making a hefty profit. You’ll also see that she’s giving a percentage to Addie’s father. The only thing I don’t know is why. I still have a tail on all three of them. Richard paid Addie a visit yesterday.”
My skin prickles. My jaw tightens. “How long was he there?”
“Not long. Maybe fifteen minutes. Also, I still have a security detail on Addie. She took a cab and met Grayson. They went to a nearby Italian restaurant. She wasn’t there long—didn’t even make it to half an hour before she ran outside and grabbed a cab. Alone. And she was crying.” He smirks at me.
I’m not going to lie. The fact that she didn’t leave with him gives me a little thrill. Not even half an hour? What happened that she would leave so soon after getting there? What did he do to her that made her cry? My fists clench.
“Keep me posted.”
He nods and leaves. I open the envelope and scan the photos. The desperation in both men’s eyes is palpable. There is a secret tying these two men together, and Dorothy knows it.
I head back to my apartment. Several times my fingers hover above my phone, ready to call Addie, but each time, I shove my phone in my pocket. Tonight is the book launch. Dorothy is on the guest list, along with Addie’s father. They were invited
to avoid them crashing the party. Should be an interesting gathering. My phone pings. I look down and laugh. It’s Owen.
Owen: Wingman tonight? Hot chicks!
His excitement radiates through the phone. God, I love this guy.
Me: Wingman it is.
I press send and close my eyes. I know I said I wasn’t going, but I can’t say no to Owen. And while Addie might not belong to me, I can protect her and Owen from whatever circus Dorothy brought to town.
Addie
George is coming over to “fluff” me. His words, not mine. And no, he isn’t referring to the porn term, “fluffer.” Get your mind out of the gutter. Anyway, I am a writer, not a pillow, but apparently, there’s an appearance I must uphold, especially at this book launch. Cocktail attire. God, what I would give to just stay home with a good book and a jug of wine, some chocolate, and a hot threesome with Ben & Jerry. Maybe after things calm down, I can go back to my comfy life, and people won’t be so interested in what I’m wearing.
The buzzer rings and Owen practically knocks me over to get to it. The chances are that he’s eager to see if the girls coming with George to do my makeup and hair are “hot.” Whatever. He’s already decked out in a charcoal suit, crisp white button-down, and a blue tie. He looks sharp since George helped him out as well. George told me that Owen was a dream client.
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