by Jillian Dodd
“What did you say?”
“You heard me. I know. About all of them.”
He pushes me against the wall and pins my arms, his face turning red with anger.
“Don't you fucking say that. I love you,” he says, forcing his lips against mine.
I want to throw up.
I push him away. “Stop it.”
“You better get your shit together, Ariela. Your dad wants us at their country house next weekend with a bunch of clients. And their wives.”
“You're going to be late for work,” I say, changing the subject and knowing that will get him out of the house. If Collin is nothing else, he is punctual.
“You better be on time,” he threatens. “You don't want to piss me off.”
“I will be,” I say softly. He's right. I don't want to piss him off. It’s easier to do what he wants. Go through the motions.
He smiles, kisses my cheek sweetly, grabs his briefcase, and walks out the door.
As soon as I hear the garage door shut, I slide to the floor and cry.
How did my life come to this?
The sad thing is, I know the answer.
Because I let it.
I stop crying and pull myself together, getting up and taking a quick peek in the hall mirror to check my makeup. The girl staring back at me is almost a stranger.
My eyes have lost their zest for life. My hair is pulled back into a bun because Collin says it makes me look more proper. My shoulder bones are sticking out because I don't care if I eat.
Food has lost its taste.
No, life has lost its taste.
I grab my handbag off the counter. Today's choice is a classic Chanel bag. Collin bought it for me. I was excited when I unwrapped it, thinking how sweet it was that he bought it for no reason. But, later, I overheard him telling my dad he got it because someone else's wife had one.
He'd already bought himself a Mercedes, an expensive watch, and a summer home in Palm Beach. This bag was just another way to show his status.
And, to Collin, a perfect wife who doesn’t work is just another status symbol.
I set the alarm, get in my Range Rover, and head to my first appointment with a woman who doesn't like to be kept waiting.
I roll into the flower shop with two minutes to spare.
“You're late,” my mother says, kissing me on the cheek.
“Nice to see you too, Mom.”
She waves her hand at me and gives me a hug. “I love you even when you make me wait.”
“Maybe you shouldn't tell someone to meet you at nine when you really want them to meet you earlier.”
“You look thin,” she says, ignoring my comment, her brows furrowing. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine, Mom,” I say, putting on a smile. “Let's find you the perfect flowers for the event.”
She pulls me aside. “You also look like you've been crying. Your eyes are puffy.”
“Collin and I got into a stupid argument this morning.”
“What about?”
“Same as usual. He wants me to quit work.”
“Me too. I need some grandchildren. You've been married for six years. Don't you think it's time?”
“I’m not sure I want to stay married to Collin,” I say, shocking myself for finally admitting the truth.
“But you and Collin are the perfect couple. He treats you so well, lavishing you with gifts. Your father is about to make him a partner.”
“I’m pretty sure he's cheating on me, Mom.”
My mother rolls her eyes and leads me to a bench outside.
“Darling, powerful men like to have an occasional liaison. It doesn't mean they don't love you. Don't let that affect your beautiful marriage.”
I can't contain my shock. “You sound like you're speaking from experience, Mom.”
She takes my hand and pats it. “A man like Collin is never going to be faithful, but that doesn't mean he can't be a good husband and provider.” She laughs. “Why do you think all the tennis pros at the club are so good-looking? Why do you think I had a personal trainer for years?”
“You have liaisons too?”
“Well, of course, dear. It's only fair.”
My head feels like it's going to explode. I didn't sign up for this when I said I do. Actually, I wouldn't have said I do if my dad hadn’t practically dragged me down the aisle.
“We better not keep Diane waiting too long, if we want the best flowers,” I tell her. I can’t deal with this right now. And I know my mom, she won’t stand for my questioning her about it.
I take my mother back into the floral shop and expertly guide her into making the right floral choices for the political fundraiser she's hosting in a few weeks. I’ve had everything else planned for months.
After I walk her to her car, she says, “You are such a talented event planner. There are so many worthy charities that could use your help.”
“I love my job, Mom.”
“I know you do. I just meant . . .”
“I know, and thank you.”
As she pulls away, I walk across the street to a coffee shop, wishing it were a bar.
Everything I thought about my parents’ relationship was wrong.
I married Collin because my dad told me I’d have a good life, like he and mom had.
I shut my eyes tightly, realizing that’s exactly what I got.
A husband who has liaisons.
I know everyone has to choose what kind of a relationship works for them and I can’t deny it seems to work for my parents, but I know this.
It won’t work for me.
I order a cup of coffee and jokingly ask the cute barista if he could throw in a shot of rum.
He laughs, takes my money, and hands my cup off.
I plop down on a couch, trying to wrap my head around my mother’s confession. My eyes blur as I stare at the coffee table in front of me, not really seeing the newspapers and magazines piled on it.
Until something catches my eye.
A cover.
A photo.
A headline.
Captive Films: Exclusive interview with Keatyn Douglas and Riley Johnson.
It's not unusual to see Keatyn on a magazine cover. She graced six in our senior year alone.
But, to my knowledge, Riley has never been on one with her.
I gently touch his handsome face then quickly flip the pages to find the interview.
Exclusive Interview:
Captive Films’ Keatyn Douglas and Riley Johnson
“Keatyn, tell us how Captive Films got its start.”
“Our first project was a remake of A Day at the Lake, starring Luke Sander as Vince, myself as Lacy, and Jake Worth as my boyfriend, Matt.”
“That movie was a box office hit. And you were both how old at the time?”
“Almost eighteen,” Riley says. “We filmed it over our summer break.”
“How did you come up with the name Captive Films?”
Sexy Riley rubs the scruff on his face and says, “It was a nod to both holding our audiences captive and how we met.”
“How you met?”
They share an inside joke, then Keatyn says, “You’ll just have to see the movie.”
So there it is, folks. Go see the trilogy that’s taking box offices around the world by storm.
I look at the other photos of them. Riley looks good.
There were a lot of good-looking boys at Eastbrooke, but Riley was just so much more.
And I was madly in love with him.
Maybe it's not all Collin’s fault that our relationship sucks. I've never given him my whole heart.
I'm scouring the captions when there's a tap on my shoulder.
I look up to see the guy who took my order with a cup in his hand.
“We called your name like four times.” He sets the cup down and gives me a boyish grin. “Mind if I join you?” As he’s sitting down, he extends his hand. “My name’s Riley.”
&
nbsp; “What!?”
“I said my name’s Kyle. Are you okay?”
I smile, trying to pretend that I’m not rattled. “I’m, um, having a rough morning. Haven't had my coffee yet.” I grab my cup and take a drink.
“It's almost lunchtime,” he says. “You free?”
“For lunch?”
“Yeah, at my place.”
“Are you hitting on me?”
He grins. It's a naughty grin and reminds me of the one Riley used to give me before he'd lead me to the furry rug at Stocktons, our secret hangout at boarding school.
“Just how old are you?” I ask.
“Nineteen. Age doesn’t matter. I think you're hot.”
I blush.
And it feels good.
“I’m married,” I reply, looking down at the clearly visible four carat diamond on my hand.
“I don't want to marry you.” He leans closer, causing an irresistible smell of coffee and musk to invade my senses. “I just want to fuck you. Over and over,” he adds for good measure, sliding his hand across my knee.
I look into his big brown eyes, full of desire.
I haven't felt desired in a long time. Sex with Collin has become perfunctory.
I swallow hard and take another sip of coffee, actually considering it.
I need to feel wanted, lusted after.
“First thing I'm gonna do is undo that bun. I bet you have gorgeous hair. May I?”
“Uh huh,” I say as he reaches around me, his mouth so close that his lips brush mine.
I’m looking at Kyle but, instead, I’m seeing Riley in front of me, shirtless, telling me he couldn't wait to undo the bun I had been wearing for parents’ weekend.
I feel my hair cascade down my shoulders. It's freeing.
“Oh, Riley,” I say out loud.
“My name is Kyle, but you can call me whatever you want. Finish your coffee and let's go.”
I smile at Kyle, grab his cheeks, and kiss him straight on the lips. “Thank you.”
“Uh, for what?”
“For making me remember what it feels like to be desired.”
I grab the magazine and my bag and stand up. Kyle gets up too and follows me to my car.
“He's still single,” I tell him.
“Who?”
I hold up the magazine. “Riley. I have to go.”
“Wait. Are we hooking up?”
“No, I have to go see the movie.”
“By yourself?”
“Yeah.”
“What are you seeing?”
“The Keatyn Chronicles Trilogy.”
“Want some company?”
“Do you have six hours to spare?”
“Yeah, why not.” He grabs the magazine and sees Riley’s name on the cover. “You know this guy?”
“Yeah. That's why I need to see the movie.”
Kyle takes my hand. “There's a movie theater around the block. I’ll warn you. I’m not a cheap date. You have to buy me popcorn.”
I laugh. “I can do that.”
In the movie theater, Kyle happily munches on popcorn and nachos.
I send a text to my boss, telling her I need to cancel my appointment and asking her to reschedule it.
As the movie starts, I whisper to Kyle, “My name is Ariela.”
Part way into the movie, actor Riley is in his dorm room telling Keatyn and Dallas how pretty I am. I get to see him talk to Keatyn about how much he likes me. How nervous he is to even text me. I laugh when Keatyn takes his phone and does it for him.
And I start crying, later, when he throws me a football with rhinestones that spell out Homecoming?.
Kyle leans over. “Are you that Ariela?”
“Yeah, I am.”
I remember getting a document from Captive, allowing them to use my name and likeness in the movie. I quickly signed and returned it, hoping no one would call me about it.
I cry during parts of the movie, but some six hours later when they show photos of the real Keatyn and Aiden, including one from the cast party from A Day at The Lake 2, I start bawling.
Kyle pats me on the back. “Tell me about all this.”
I spill my guts to this relative stranger who has held my hand through the entire movie.
I wipe my tears and say, “And that's it. I walked away and never looked back.”
“Your marriage isn’t happy, is it?”
“No. I'm miserable.”
“Then you need to go get Riley.”
“Go to L.A.?”
“Yeah. You started ugly crying when you saw that picture with you in it. Maybe he hoped you’d see it. Maybe it’s a sign.”
“But . . .” My brain is thinking of a million reasons why I shouldn’t go, but my heart can’t think of any.
“But what? You want to live the rest of your life unhappy? Is he married?”
“The article said he's single.”
“Then you definitely have to go.”
“I do have a couple sorority sisters who live out there. They always want me to come visit.”
“Call them.”
I take my phone out of my bag and see numerous texts from Collin. It's nearly seven, and I'm over two hours late for drinks.
“Shit. I was supposed to meet my husband and his clients for drinks at five. Not that I even wanted to go.”
“Go home and pack your bags while he's gone.”
“I don't have anywhere to stay.”
“You can crash at my place.”
“Are you still trying to get me into bed?”
“I know you think I'm young, but I'm smart enough to know true love when I see it. You chose the wrong path back then, you need to fix it or your world will never be in balance.”
“How'd you get so smart?”
He grins at me. “I’m taking Philosophy of Life this semester. Getting an A.”
His youth and enthusiasm feed my soul. I know he's right. I shake my head, loving the way my long hair feels as it slides across my shoulders. “Why are you helping me?”
He laughs. “I'm still kinda hoping to get laid.”
“It's not gonna happen.”
“Fine, tell you what. When you reconnect with Riley, maybe you can help me get a summer internship at Captive Films. That would be killer.”
I shake his hand. “You have a deal.”
He takes my phone and puts his number in, naming himself Coffee Kyle.
He walks me to my car and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Good luck,” he says. “Go do it now, before you chicken out. And, if you start to chicken out, call me.”
I nod, thank him again, and drive home.
I pull into the driveway of our beautiful home. The house I thought would make us feel like a family. Instead, it seems cold and full of empty promises.
I pack a suitcase and an overnight bag. Then I go to the back of my closet and pull out an old shoebox. The shoebox filled with memories of a boy I could never forget but didn't have the guts to fight for.
I see a text from Collin flash on my phone saying he's heading home.
I scrawl a quick note for him, leave it on the kitchen island, and head for the airport.
Once I’m on the plane and the people around me are asleep, I pull the box out of my tote bag. I cry as the memories flood back. Memories I’ve tried so hard to keep buried.
Pressed flowers, prom tickets, photos, sweet love notes.
As I pull out a stack of photos, something falls into my lap.
I move the box, dig between my legs, and find it.
The jeweled Hello Kitty ring he put on my finger when he asked me to be his girlfriend.
I take off my jewelry from Collin and toss it into my handbag, replacing the emerald on my right hand with the ring that tells me I can do this.
That I have to do this.
Monday, September 29th
Captive Films - Santa Monica
RILEY
I come out of my office after an early morning overseas call to find Ke
atyn sitting at the conference table, papers spread out in front of her, and my assistant, Tyler, looking over her shoulder.
“Casting sent these,” she says to me. “If we’re moving into television production, we have to do it just right. I need just the right actress for it.”
“I think we should bring them all in for screen tests,” Tyler suggests. That’s always his suggestion. Spend more money.
“We’ll bring two in for screen tests.”
“Then help me decide, Riley,” Keatyn says. “This role is so different. She’s got to be able to play both the preacher’s virgin daughter and the wild hellcat equally well.”
I walk behind her and look at the faces staring back at me.
“No, no, and no.” I immediately pull three casting sheets off the table and hand them to Tyler. Then I study a fourth. I can’t remember her name, but I do remember that she had her nipples pierced. “And, no.”
“Jeez, Riley, don’t tell me you’ve slept with four out of our six choices. At this rate, we’ll run out of actresses to choose from in the next year.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying stop fucking twenty year olds. Most of our films are about young people. Move up a decade or something. And, speaking of that, stop taking Knox out and getting him drunk. He was still hung over on set yesterday at three in the afternoon!”
“Why the hell were you filming on a Sunday?” I shrug. “Besides, it’s not my fault he can’t handle his liquor.”
“He can’t handle any of it. He’s not dealing with it very well.”
“She was cheating on him with the personal trainer he bought for her!”
“I know. I’m not saying it was right, I’m just saying he probably can’t keep up with you. Go a little easy on him. Take him bowling or golfing. Not to a club every night.”
“Fine, I’ll try to.”
“Did you see this mockup from the marketing department?” She slides a board out from underneath a bunch of papers. “It’s brilliant, very sexy.”
