by L. L Hunter
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
“Why? What happened?”
“I’m fine. I just wanna get out of here.”
“Sure. Let’s go.”
I said goodbye to the crew, thanked them for their time, and led Chloe out of there. Something happened between her and Charles, and she seemed a bit shaken up about it. I had to take her mind off it.
“Hey, how about I cook you dinner tomorrow night?”
“Sure. I’d like that.”
“Okay. Great. I’ll bring the supplies. I want to make you my famous rice paper rolls.”
We stopped near her car.
“Okay. I’d like that.”
I smiled and leaned down to peck her on the cheek. She returned a small smile and hopped in her car. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Okay.”
I frowned as I watched her drive away before I headed to my car. Something happened back in the studio, so I was going to use tomorrow to distract her from not only what had just happened, but from the bombshell I was about to drop on her.
13
The next day, I headed to the supermarket to grab supplies for dinner, and for afterwards and then made my way to Chloe’s house about six. As soon as the door opened, she was leaping into my arms. I just about dropped everything I was holding. I laughed and kissed her.
“Hey. Well, you’re happy.”
And I soon found out why. She told me she had sold our story. She had written a book about our story and a publisher wanted to publish it.
“This calls for wine!” She ran into the house, and I followed. She opened up a bottle of wine and poured us both a glass. I was about to say I bought one but left it. We might want it later. I set my supplies on the counter and picked up the glass of wine she offered me.
“What’s all this?” she asked, taking in everything I was laying out on the counter.
“As promised, I’m cooking you dinner tonight,” I said with a smirk.
“You are?”
“I didn’t think you were seriously going to cook for me.”
“Yeah. I don’t cook very well, though. There’s only one thing I make well, and that’s my grandmother’s Goi Coun or rice paper rolls.”
“Mmm. Sounds amazing.” She leaned against the counter and watched me as I made myself at home in the kitchen. “No one has ever cooked for me before. Not a guy, anyway.”
I couldn’t believe it when she told me no guy had ever cooked for her before. An amazing woman like Chloe needed to be spoiled like a queen. As I prepared the pork mixture for the spring rolls, she stood close to me. She took a big sip of wine, and then the truth all poured out. I watched as she revealed her darkest secrets and desires to me. I watched as her soul was revealed, and I couldn’t be more turned on. Most people think that revealing our secrets to those we care about only scare them away, but it was the opposite for me. It only made me fall for her deeper.
“I’m not doing this for me,” she admitted. “All my life, I’ve always done things for myself. I’ve had so many bad dates and dated so many douchebags that I’ve stopped caring whether I remain a spinster for the rest of my life. If the right guy doesn’t come along, that’ll be okay, but I wouldn’t be sad if he never did.”
“That’s a good philosophy to have,” I said, taking another sip of wine and stirring the pork mince. “It reminds me of why I’m doing this. We have a lot of things in common.” He stirred the meat and spoke again. “So, you’re doing this for me? Why?”
It was true. Chloe and I did want the same thing out of this. A relationship. A companion to share life’s journey with.
“If I did it all for me, I wouldn’t want this life. Your life. The fame. After what happened yesterday…” She took a deep breath and told me what happened yesterday at the studio, and what she said made me want to storm down there and rip off that man’s head. I had never before felt such anger as I did right then toward Charles. I had never before felt so protective of someone. But Chloe was changing me. Chloe had changed me. When she told me she liked the way I made her feel, that I made her feel stronger and more confident, I lost it. That was it. I loved this woman. Even after such a short time together. I knew. So it was going to be fucking impossible to tell her I had to leave. Before I could worry about how I was going to confess I had to go back to L.A., she grabbed my face, pulled it down to meet hers and kissed me so passionately. I forgot all my thoughts. I focused only on her lips on mine. I needed her. I wanted her.
Soon, the pork was forgotten, and we made our way upstairs to Chloe’s bed.
When we eventually made it to the bed, ripping off our clothes on the way, I excused myself and slipped on a condom. Even though this woman made me feel crazy brave, I respected her. We had to be safe. For a split second, before I pushed inside her this time, I had this sliver of fear trying to remember if the first time we did this, the night we met, did we protection. I was far too drunk to remember. Shit. I should have been more careful.
“What’s wrong?” she asked me as she stared up at me, patiently waiting for me to enter her.
“I… I just had a thought.”
“What about?”
“About the night we met. What if we didn’t use protection?”
She laughed and kissed me, pulling me down to her. “Don’t worry about that. I’m on the pill.”
“Yeah,” I said, breaking apart, “but there are other things… like STIs.”
She froze. “You’re clean, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Yes, of course.”
“Good.” She pulled my face back down to meet hers and kissed me hard. “No more thinking. Kiss me. Make love to me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I chuckled and kissed her, pulling her body up into my arms. We made love until the smoke detector reminded me I was supposed to be making us dinner. “Oh, shit! The pork!”
“Fuck the pork,” replied Chloe, pulling me to her as I tried to escape. “Fuck me instead.”
“Yeah, but I was supposed to be making you dinner. And now it’s ruined.”
On seeing my face drop, she sat up and stroked my hair. “It’s not ruined. And it’s only food. I’m glad you’re here with me.”
The way she was looking at me, so in awe of me, so in love, it made me realise that I was about to break her heart. I couldn’t deal with it. I slid out of bed.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
Forgoing clothes, I headed down to the kitchen to salvage the dinner. I couldn’t help but feel the food was a metaphor for this night. As I scooped the slightly burned pork mince into little mounds on the spring roll pastry and added the vegetables and rolled them out. I then checked the oil in the wok. When it was hot enough, I threw the spring rolls into the boiling hot oil to fry. I had to make this night special so it would soften the blow I soon had to deliver. I had to salvage my feelings and this night if I was about to ruin us. When the food was ready, I added sauce and put it all on a tray with the wine and two glasses. Then I took it back upstairs to the bedroom.
“Ooh, what’s this?”
“I promised you dinner, so you’re getting dinner.”
“This is amazing. Thank you.” She sat up, the sheet slipping off her chest, revealing her perfect breasts. As she ate, I took her in, her smile, her moans as she savoured the food I cooked for her. How on earth was I going to leave her tomorrow? I didn’t want to leave, but I was only supposed to be here a few days. I wasn’t planning on meeting someone. Chloe had completely and utterly swept the rug out from under me and turned my world upside down in the best way possible.
And now I had to leave all this behind. I had to go and face the music and my life back in L.A. sooner or later.
When we had finished the food and the rest of the bottle of wine, we collapsed on the bed once more and made love again. And when we lay in each other’s arms afterwards, I knew now was the right time to break the news.
&nb
sp; “I… I have to go back to L.A. tomorrow.”
Seeing the tears in Chloe’s eyes just about broke me. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to break her heart. That’s why I left it to the very last moment.
Thankfully, my flight wasn’t until late the next night. So we spent the last day together in bed. And when we had our last kiss on the sidewalk. I had I leave her behind, and I left my heart back there with her on that sidewalk.
14
Before leaving, I’d asked Chloe to send me the book she wrote about us, our story, and she reluctantly did. So I spent the most part of my flight back to L.A. reading. I found myself laughing and tearing up reliving the moments. It was funny and emotional and raw. It was us. But this was her version of the events that took place over the past ten days or so. So it was interesting to know her perspective. I finally had a deeper insight into how she truly felt.
The words on the page, or screen in my case, as I was reading from my tablet, were more than I was going to get from her lips. I knew that’s how writer’s minds worked. Ask them to reveal their feelings, put their heart on their sleeve, or have a deep conversation with someone face to face, and words were hard to come by. The words disappeared on the way from their brains to their mouths. But ask them to write it down, and you got a whole damn novel. I was finally getting to know the real Chloe. I know she’ll tell me everything eventually, but some things were hard to speak out loud. Especially to someone you cared about, for fear they might not like you as much afterwards.
But love was accepting someone—flaws, freckles, skeletons and all.
The truth was, and I was afraid to admit this, but there were some things I was afraid to let Chloe know about. And it was one reason why I had to get back to L.A.
I still had skeletons in my closet I was yet to reveal to her.
And I had to go home to fight them.
When I landed in L.A., I was met with media chaos. I had received a message from Kyle while on the plane, and he’d told me he’d organised for me to be escorted through the side entrance, the one reserved for high-risk security celebrities. The ones the paparazzi were crazy about. And right now, they were crazy about me.
Entering the airport through the side door didn’t mean we avoided the press, though. They knew exactly where I was going to be and when. Knowing Kyle and what he had done in the past, I knew he had probably been the one to tip them off. He craved the attention. Any press was good press right now. But he wasn’t the one with a reputation hanging over the edge of a cliff.
“Jack! Jack, look this way!”
“Jack, where’s Chloe?”
“Jack, is your romance with Chloe Vanderbilt real?”
“Was your romance with Chloe a publicity stunt, Jack?”
Unbelievable. This was all Kyle’s fault. The press still thought our romance was a publicity stunt. Thankfully, he wasn’t here. The coward. He was probably watching via his smartphone from his cushy office in town. I might need to go postal on his ass. I needed to speak to him before this shit got more out of hand. And before the awards.
I put my head down and pushed through the media storm to my waiting car. Stephen was waiting at the car for me. He dealt with my luggage while I escaped inside the car. And then he jumped in, and we sped away from the airport and got lost in the L.A. traffic.
“It’s good to have you back, Mr Dean.”
“Thank you, Stephen. It’s good to be back, despite the craziness,” I said, gesturing back at the airport, fast disappearing in the rearview mirror.
“Ah, yes. I bet you never thought you’d see the day when the media would be waiting for you at the airport.”
“I know. It was once something I dreamed about when I started. Not getting hounded by the media, of course. But the press going crazy and screaming my name. And to have it actually happen…”
“You’ve officially made it, my boy,” he said, smiling at me the rear view mirror. I slumped into the back seat and sighed.
“Yeah, but not like this. What they think… it’s not true. What Chloe and I have is real. And I’m going to show the world that.”
“I know you will, my boy,” said the kind older man. Stephen had been with me for a few years now, since the beginning when I began to make it here. He was always so supportive. He was like a second grandfather. “I can’t wait to meet your Chloe. She sounds wonderful.”
I smiled. “Thank you. She’ll be coming over in about two weeks for New Year’s and the Globes.”
“Well, then I’m looking forward to it. Something is different about you, Jack.”
“Oh? Is it? How?”
“You seem happier. It’s like you have a new purpose. I could tell you’d lost hope and faith in this industry for a little while. I see it happen over and over. The industry chews people up and spits them out. You escaped for a little bit, and it seems like it’s done you a world of good. The hope and faith that was once lost have now returned.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you can see it. Now I just wish the media and the world would.”
“They will. You’ll see. Once they see how happy you are.”
I stared out the window, watching the buildings fly by. “I hope so.”
15
Even though I felt like storming into Kyle’s office and asking him why he set me up like that, like a surfer in the middle of an ocean infested with hungry sharks, I knew it would only make the situation worse.
Besides, Stephen’s advice cheered me up. He dropped me home. It was early evening, but it felt like morning due to the time difference between here and Sydney, so I didn’t feel like dinner. I dumped my bags in the lobby of my house and made my way to the kitchen to see what I could eat. On the way past the kitchen counter, I spotted a large envelope. I grabbed a bottle of coconut water out of the fridge, downed half of it, and then took the envelope onto the pool deck. It was quite heavy, and when I ripped it open, I found a script inside.
Another script.
I already had about five of these to read through. Three were TV pilots, and the others were for upcoming films my agent thought I might be interested in auditioning for. This one was another TV pilot, but one I was anxiously waiting for. It was for the upcoming teen drama that had already been picked up for an entire season. So my agent had sent over the first couple of episodes. I was excited to dig in.
A few pages in, my phone rang. I saw the caller ID. It was Alexa. I ignored her. She rang a total of three times before I got the shits and answered.
“Alexa, what do you want?”
“Oh, good. You’re back.”
I rubbed my hand over my eyes. The jetlag was finally getting to me. Maybe it was time to go to bed after all. “Yeah. What’s up?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to see if you’d come to this club opening with me tonight.”
I groaned. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Jack, it’s just a club opening. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“You know that’s not how it works. The paps won’t see it that way. Besides, I told you. I’m with Chloe.”
“Oh, is your little writer there with you?”
“No, she’s not. Look. I’m busy. I have these scripts to go over. And I’m going to bed soon. I just got off a fourteen-hour flight.”
“You know I can help you run lines. All you have to do is ask.”
“No. I’m fine. I have to go. Bye, Alexa.” I hung up before she could make any more excuses or hook me in. Alexa was manipulative, and I couldn’t risk falling under her spell again. I couldn’t give her what she wanted. I finished off the bottle of coconut water and headed back into the kitchen. I grabbed some bottled water and made my way upstairs. I showered and fell into bed in my underwear. I wasn’t in the mood for Alexa right now. I wasn’t interested in anything other than sleeping. Everything else could wait until tomorrow.
I slept the entire next day and finally woke to the smell of bacon, eggs and coffee, and the sound of many, many people talking loudly
. I groaned and pulled the pillow over my head.
“What the fuck. Ugh. Shut up!”
“Hey, is that any way to speak to your favourite aunt, Jacky?”
I peeled one eye open and stared at the figure sitting in the armchair in front of the balcony doors.
“Aunt Sue? What are you doing here? And what’s all that noise?”
“Helen, your housekeeper, called your mother and said you’re home from Australia and have been sleeping the day away. Of course, when your mother asked if you’ve eaten or had any proper food in your fridge, and Helen said no, your mother was straight over.”
I had to smile. My mother, God bless her, was always like that. Making sure her favourite son was eating properly. More loud voices carried up from the lower level.
“Why is everyone else here then?”
“Because of the news!”
My breath got stuck in my throat, and my stomach fell. “What… what news?” I was afraid to hear it.
“Of your girl. The pretty Australian writer you met in Sydney? Why didn’t you tell us? We had to find out on the internet.” She tsked at me and threw my jeans at my head.
“Hey!”
“Get dressed and come down. Your family wants to see you.”
I got dressed reluctantly, and when I walked into the living and kitchen area, I was almost bowled over. I looked down into the smiling face of my grandmother. I chuckled and bent down to kiss her head. She was a small lady, so only came up to my navel. I was over six foot. I knelt down so she could see my face.
“Hi, Grandma,” I said in Vietnamese. My grandmother still didn’t speak a word of English, so I made sure to practise my Vietnamese so I could talk to my grandparents. She placed her palms on my cheeks. They smelt of lemongrass. She muttered something that translated to, “My boy is in love.” I wasn’t sure because she spoke so softly. She then placed a kiss on my forehead and ran back into the kitchen to join my mother. I laughed. I loved that woman. I found my father and grandfather where I knew they’d be—in my theatre room. They had their favourite Asian game show on and were talking loudly. Some things never changed.
