She could feel Mike’s hesitation over the phone, thick and nervous. “Dare I ask?”
Rori laughed, the sound bitter even after all these years. “Well, I guess I’m too far into the story now to skip this part, right? The answer is that when he answered the phone he was all sweet talk and romance, but when I broke the news to him that he and I had made a baby, his first response was the same as my mom’s. He offered money—even recommended a hospital, as if this wasn’t the first time he’d dealt with the issue. When I told him no, he had it all wrong and I wanted to keep the baby, he grew quiet. He didn’t say anything for what seemed like forever, and when he did he said that fatherhood was not something he would be forced into, that he had no desire to see me again, and that if I had the baby he would offer me a settlement in exchange for the assurance that he was never in the same country as the child and that I never disclosed his name to the child.”
“Whoa,” Mike said.
Nothing more. Here she was pouring out her heart—telling him one of her darkest secrets—and all he could manage was a whoa? Men. What mean trick of nature was it that they were required for the continuation of the human species.
“Like any teenage girl, I was destroyed when he ended the call by insisting he never wanted to see me again. I swear I did nothing but lay in my bed a sob for a day. And when my mom came and told me to get into the car, I didn’t have the energy to fight her. And once we were at the clinic, I didn’t have to sign a document or anything. I was underage and in the country we were in only my mother’s consent was needed. All I had to do was pretend that nothing unusual was happening.”
“I… uh, don’t know what to say.”
“Yeah? Well, join the club. But the point of all this is that maybe some people have reasons for doing things the way they do. And maybe it’s not so weird that I want to start having babies at age twenty-five, because in my mind, anytime I allow myself to think about it, I know I should have a nine year old right now. And for some reason she’s always a girl with my crazy hair and Lorenz’s chocolate eyes. Sometimes she’s so real that I find myself missing her—missing someone that doesn’t exist, Mike. I know women deal with abortion in countless different ways. Maybe some women deal better when it’s their choice and not something they submit to in order avoid attaching scandal to their family’s name, but this is where I’m at, Mike. I want children, and I want a man who’s ready to have kids, too. And I want it to be a guy who is committed to them as I am, regardless of how he feels about me. Maybe it’s unorthodox, maybe it’s not up to your romantic standards, but after what happened with my parents and what happened with Lorenz, it’s what makes the most sense. So pardon me if I let your sister stick to her theory of finding guys she likes lick and sniff, while I stick to my theory of finding a man who shares my long-term goals, lifestyle, and approach to raising children.”
She ended on a bit of a bitter note, but it felt good. Yes, she had disclosed her abortion on her application with Sophia, but there was a bit of a difference between answering “one” to the question Number of abortions: on page five of a personality profile than actually telling the story. Okay, a huge difference. Rori hadn’t told anyone the story in years, and never a man.
Yet she’d just told Mike. And now that she had, she could confess to herself that she’d wanted to tell him. She wanted him to know—needed him to know so that he would do what needed to be done between them: create distance. A guy with Mike’s upbringing would be horrified at the idea of an abortion. Certainly no one in his family had had one. His sister had been a twenty-four year old virgin, for crying out loud.
After tonight Mike would never be able to look at her the same, and Rori just had to find a way not to resent him for that.
“You were right,” he said at length, confusing her.
“Of course I was.” She hesitated then. “About what?”
“Your approach to finding a husband does make sense for you. Your trust has been broken on so many levels, and you want to shield your future children from the same fate as much as you can. I get it now.”
Rori’s mouth fell open, mute. He was agreeing with her? Was he high?
“Well, I probably don’t get it get it. But I guess I probably understand as well as a guy can, even as part of me wants to hunt this Lorenz guy down and beat the shit out of him. And your mom, too—no offense. But there really aren’t words for how horribly she handled everything. You should have been the one to make the decision, one way or the other. That she just jumped in there and…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, which had Rori’s heart racing and her eyes tearing up for some reason.
“She acted in my best interest,” Rori justified.
“If you say so,” he snapped. “But forgive me if I choose to believe that she was really only thinking about herself and what she wanted.”
“Looking back—”
“No, I get it,” he said. “You’ve forgiven her. I’m sure I’ll get to a place where I don’t think she’s a horrible person, but in the meantime, thank you.”
“Thank you? For what?”
“For trusting me enough to tell me this,” he said, his voice sounding impossibly gentle. “I could tell it wasn’t easy for you.”
No, no, NO! This was not supposed to be his reaction. He was not supposed to be sweet about all this. He was supposed to freak! He was supposed to push away. He was supposed to see how fundamentally different they were and withdraw.
“People are never quite as simple as we think, are they?” he asked.
Rori fought back a laugh. “I guess not. You got any dark secrets you’re hiding away, Mr. Perfect?”
“Maybe another day,” he said with a smile in his voice.
“You mean there actually is one?”
“Or two,” he teased, somehow making the conversation feel normal again. “And since we’re now apparently at the trading dark secrets part of our friendship, I guess I’ll have to cough up one of them sooner rather than later.”
“You’ve got that right,” she teased. Or maybe it was more of a flirt. But if it was, it was unintentional.
“The point is that I get you better now and I promise I’ll stop giving you flack about your matchmaker. I get it—or at least I understand the situation well enough to stop being an ass about it.”
The comment should have been reassuring but part of Rori deflated.
“It’s one o’clock there now, so I should probably let you get some rest, but mind if I call you tomorrow?”
“You don’t need to call me tomorrow,” Rori said, looking at the clock and doing the mental math of how much sleep she’d get. Not enough—that was if she got any sleep at all. Here she’d just bared her soul to Mike and two minutes later he was saying goodbye? No matter what words were leaving his mouth, he was still running.
“Yeah, I kind of do,” he said cautiously. “Otherwise you’re going to go all girl on me and make up stories in your head about how I’m weirded out and avoiding you, and how you overshared and you’re stupid, and blah, blah, blah. It’s like an estrogen tailspin you girls do after an emotionally draining experience.”
Rori opened her mouth to answer, then shut it again. “Who the hell are you?” she said at last, earning a chuckle from him.
“I’m a guy who has been heavily coached by his sister over the years in the ways understanding the baffling mind of females.”
“Well, she’s good,” Rori said, pressing her hand to her chest and feeling the steady thud of her heart even as her throat choked up.
“So I’m going to call tomorrow. Maybe you pick up, maybe you don’t. That’s up to you. But we’re still friends, you and I. That’s the point. My only regret about tonight is that I can’t give you a hug right now or that someone isn’t there to give you one for me. I think you need one.”
“Okay, stop,” she said, more than a little serious. “A girl can only take so much sweetness before she swoons, and you’re approaching that line.” Ap
proaching? Yeah, right. He’d passed it way back. In her mind she was hugging him all right. Then she was tilting her head up and pulling her mouth to his before letting her hands wander. The feel of him might only be her imagination, but damn, he felt good.
“Then I won’t tell you that I think you’re amazing. That would just be crossing the line,” he said.
Rori’s breath caught and she felt an actual tingle run through her. “Yeah, that might cross the line.”
“So I’ll stick with good night and see you tomorrow. How about that?”
“Right back at you,” Rori agreed.
“Night, Rori.”
“Night, Mike.”
Then he was gone, and Rori was left with one reoccurring thought: Oh, shit. What have I done?
Chapter 39
Mike Cannon was a man of his word. He called all right. And like he promised, he treated her like a sister. He was the big brother she’d never had—the big brother whose naked ass she was currently imagining as she sculpted the clay in front of her while she talked to him on the phone. It was like participating in an artist’s version of porn.
She had to be careful not to drink while she was on the phone with him anymore—not because she might say something she might regret, but because she might say something she really wanted to say. Something like, Did you know that I’m imagining you naked right now? or You know, I would love it if you would pose for me when you come in September. I would love to do a nude of you. Or there was the off chance that she might go really transparent with something like, I’m trying to create the perfect male ass. Mind sending me a picture of yours?
Would he? What would he say?
“What are you working on?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.
Rori blinked herself back to the present. “How can you tell I’m working on something?”
“The way you talk,” he said.
“Oh, well, a sculpture, actually.”
“Of what?”
She hesitated, feeling a little embarrassed. She was never embarrassed. “Well, my theme is connection, so I guess you can say that I’m sculpting the most intimate connection possible.”
He hesitated. “A baby in the womb?”
“Ha ha,” she said, noting his too-innocent tone. “No I’m doing the part right before that—the part where the guy buries himself inside the girl and gets the baby ball rolling.”
“Uh, wow,” he said, clearing his throat. “Sounds awesome.”
“I hope it will be,” she said, keeping her voice casual. “I’m doing the guy’s hips right now—his ass actually. I have the perfect model.”
“Yeah?” His voice sounded a little off and it made Rori smile.
“Yeah. I kind of want to do the rest of his body, but for this piece I’m only going to be showing the paired hips. Everything else is just a distraction from the theme.”
“You don’t think they should connect in other ways, too? Like the eyes?”
“Not in this piece,” she said quickly. “Other pieces cover other types of connection, but this one is just about the most fundamental connection of them all. The one that creates life without regard to any other connection.”
“Uh, yeah. So how does that work? You have two models there holding that position? That seems a little impossible.”
“No, just the guy for right now. I haven’t decided on the female model. I might use myself.”
He choked on that one. She could tell even though he didn’t say a word. She smiled in the silence, careful not to make a sound.
“How would you do that—sculpt yourself like that, I mean?”
“A mirror,” she said easily. “That way I could see from any angle and not be shy about feeling around, as well, to make sure I had the angles and contours right.”
She could have sworn she heard him cover the phone with his hand. Regardless, his side of the line went very silent for a brief moment before he said, “Makes sense, I guess. It would be kind of awkward to get that close and personal with another girl.”
“Oh, not that weird,” she said, biting her lip against a smile as she felt his reaction through the phone. “Just more convenient in this case. I mostly get to work in off hours. It would be hard to arrange consistent times that both a male and female model could meet late at night.”
“So you’re staring at a naked dude right now and molding his ass out of clay while you’re talking to me?”
No. “Basically,” she lied.
“And that isn’t weird to you?”
“Why would it be?”
He let out a short laugh. “Like if I were sitting here with a naked woman, taking pictures of her while I was talking to you?”
“Well, pardon me for multi-tasking,” Rori said, even as the sick flavor of jealousy filled her mouth. Had he ever taken nude photos? Did he currently? She should ask.
“Uh, you owe me a secret, by the way,” Rori said lightly. “Deep, dark, and damning.”
“While you’re in the same room as a naked man? No thanks.”
“I exaggerated a little,” she confessed. “He’s not here right now. I’m just working with pictures.” Mental pictures, that is. “I was just trying to be scandalous.”
“So it’s just you there?”
“Me and a big wad of clay that looks like an ass,” she said, smiling for some reason she didn’t quite understand.
“And you just want me to toss out a deep, dark secret?”
“Yep.”
“Just like that? No segue, no nothing?”
“Quid pro quo, tit for tat, and all that.”
“Wow. You’re awfully perky for someone who is asking me for blackmail material.”
“And it had better be good, too,” she countered. “I didn’t hold back with you. That’s some grade-A dirt you have on me. I can count on one hand how many people I’ve told that tidbit to, so you’d better dig deep, Cannon. I want something messy.”
“Yeah?” he teased. “And if it’s not messy enough?”
“Then I do have this issue of not being completely content with my current model. Maybe you could trade a deep, dark secret for a 360 of images of your hips that I will sculpt into a centerpiece that would scandalize your mother, should she ever see it. I might consider that a trade.”
She’d said it. Maybe just in jest, but she’d actually asked him for naked pictures. It felt so wanton, so reckless, so… necessary. Rori bit her bottom lip to resist against saying anything else out of pure nervousness until he answered.
“You’re right. My mother would definitely be scandalized by that. She made me promise not to get naked in front of any cameras when I moved to L.A.”
“I see,” Rori teased. “And do you always do what your mother says?”
He hesitated, and she felt the levity in him even before he uttered the word, “No.”
“Oh?” she said carefully. “Are we going with truth then, and not dare?”
Again, he was silent for a few moments. “I would prefer we did neither.”
“Yeah? Well, now you totally have my full attention.”
He laughed lightly. “Yeah, I guess I do, don’t I.”
“So, tell me, Mike. What dark deed did you do that you don’t want your mother knowing about?” She kept her voice light, not sure whether she would regret it later or not. He certainly seemed serious, but at the same time Rori couldn’t imagine he could say anything that would shock her or make her think any differently about him. “Leap of faith time, Cannon. I can tell you from personal experience that you’ll feel better after you share. I did.”
“You did?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I mean it,” he pressed. “I’m serious here, Rori.”
She sobered quickly. “I am too, Mike.” She let that sink in. “I really thought you’d think less of me after I told you that. In fact, that’s why I told you. I was trying to prove to myself that you were fair weather and just trying to get into my pants—that if I started making myself m
ore three dimensional you would split. But guess what? You didn’t. You’re the first guy I ever told that story to. It was hard and messy and I bawled myself to sleep that night, but I do feel better. So I’m happy to return the favor if you’ve got something burning on your conscience.”
His silence was all the answer she needed. Yes, Mr. Perfect had a secret. One he was ashamed of.
“No one knows this,” he said. “Not even Luke.”
Rori’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he said softly.
Silence.
Rori’s heart was racing. Why, though? This wasn’t her secret. There was no reason to be nervous, and yet her heart was pounding and she could feel her palms growing a little sweaty. It was like Mike’s nervousness was transferring to her.
“After I finished school, I was ready to jump into the industry,” he said carefully. “I had all these scripts and shorts I thought had potential, but no one wants to invest in a director who hasn’t proven himself. I was fine to do projects with no budget, and even had actors that would volunteer time in exchange for adding scenes to their reel, but the real issue came in with getting a production team. They all wanted to get paid, which makes sense. I get it. But the point was that every time I tried to get someone on my projects, they simply responded by inviting me onto theirs. And after so many weeks of striking out, I started going for the paycheck rather than the vision.”
“That’s understandable,” Rori said.
“For several months that worked out. I wasn’t directing, but I was making great connections as I worked on set with other directors, and occasionally even scored a second unit director position to pad my resume.”
“Makes sense,” she said when he paused. “Connections are very important in your industry.”
Mr Imperfect Page 19