Making It, #2

by Christina Ross

  “That’s enough,” Hunter said.

  “Afraid to face your truth, darling?” Immaculata said.

  “You and I only had a few dates,” Hunter said. “And that was a year ago—not a month ago.”

  “A year ago?” she said. “Really, Hunter? Why don’t you just stop with the lies? Our last date ended in your bed, with you calling me your princess, and with you promising me more.”

  As they exchanged words that essentially were darts, I retreated into my thoughts.

  Is this how it would be with him? I wondered. Had this Immaculata woman just exposed him for who he really is? At the very moment when I was about to let my guard down?

  It certainly seemed that way, which made my stomach fall a little bit, because I was attracted to Hunter. And on some level, I knew that he was attracted to me. But on what level? Was it just all about sex when it came to him? Because if it was, I was having no part of that.

  I’m closing in on thirty, for God’s sake, I thought. At this point in my life, I need to meet the right man, and not the kind of man who only wants me for an hour or so in his bedroom. My career is literally on the line here, and because of that, I don’t want any part of being with a player. If Hunter has been one in the past, fine. Good for him. We all were young once and most of us have grown up. But if he’s still one now—which it appears he is, given what Immaculata just said right in front of me, with Hunter having to face it all—then that’s a shame, because there is something special about him. But not special enough to interrupt my personal or professional life. Right now, nothing and no one will derail me from my new job at CAA.

  “Julia?” Hunter said.

  I’d been so lost in thought that it was only when I turned to him that I noticed Immaculata was gone.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry you had to hear that,” he said.

  Because what she said is true?

  I wanted to ask, but I didn’t.

  “Your personal life is your own, Hunter,” I said. “It has nothing to do with me. That said, I am sorry she felt the need to confront you like that in such a public space.”

  He was about to speak when an older gentleman called out his name, came up to him, and shook his hand. While they engaged in conversation, I thought again about Immaculata. She had confronted Hunter with rage for a reason, which matched what Harper had said to me when I told her I had no intention of sleeping with him. “That’s the thing,” she’d said. “Neither did some of the other women he’s courted. But they were burned by him, Julia. I know that for a fact because I’ve heard the stories firsthand from women I trust. I’m only speaking out now because seeing you hurt is the last thing I’d ever want.”

  Clearly, Hunter had recently burned Immaculata, because she’d said that she’d been waiting a month to hear from him, despite Hunter’s claim that the last time there were together was a year ago. And then there was that thing she’d said that sounded almost identical to something Hunter had said to me. She’d said that Hunter had “never met another woman like me, and that he wanted to see more of me, because ‘women like me were rare in this city.’” Over dinner at db bistro, Hunter had not only told me that he found me interesting, but that he hadn’t found that many interesting, beautiful, quick-witted women in this city, which was why he wanted to get to know me better. Wasn’t that just another way of saying that I was ‘rare in this city’? It was, and my heart sank because I knew that he likely had fed me a well-honed line.

  And now I have to get through the rest of the night despite all this, I thought. I want to get out of this now, but I can’t. I told Hunter that I’d be his plus-one, and because we have a professional relationship, I’ll keep my word. So, I’ll just keep a smile on my face, I’ll be polite, I’ll try to have a good time, then I’ll get the hell home when the evening’s over and watch an episode of the Barefoot Contessa. No harm, no foul. Onward.

  “Anyways, Grant, this is my date, Julia Jacobs,” I heard Hunter say. “Julia, please meet Grant Spears. He’s one of the producers on my father’s film.”

  “Congratulations, Mr. Spears,” I said to the older gentleman. He had a thick head of silvery-gray hair that matched his eyes. When we moved to shake hands, he kissed the back of mine in a way that was so chivalrous, I wanted to ask if him if he had a date tonight. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is mine, Julia,” he said. “And may I just say to you both, it’s nice to have some young people at one of these events for once. Because I often feel as if I’m visiting a high-end assisted living facility that caters only to the super rich. With so many people talking about their hip replacements or how they’re keeping their cholesterol in check, it can be taxing. I mean, the things I overhear feel almost foreboding to me. ‘You aren’t there yet, Grant, but just you wait!’”

  That made me laugh.

  “I can only imagine,” I said. “For your sanity alone, I hope there never comes a day when they start discussing their colostomy bags.”

  “Don’t think that hasn’t happened,” he said to me in a low voice. “Because in this crowd, Julia? Some of them are now referring to them as ‘their little brown purses’ . . .”

  “Oh, they are not!” I said.

  “Well, maybe not, but it makes for a fun joke, doesn’t it? Now, you two have a wonderful time this evening. And Hunter?” he said.

  “Yes, Grant?” Hunter said.

  “Take note of what you have here tonight—a bright, funny, beautiful woman.”

  “I have taken note of that,” Hunter said with unexpected meaning in his voice. “Trust me on that, Grant.”

  “I will,” the man said. “Because that’s exactly what someone like you needs.” And after giving me a little bow, Grant Spears ascended the stairs with a host of others, as I wondered why he’d said ‘because that’s exactly what someone like you needs.’ Did everyone here know that Hunter was a player?

  Seems so!

  “Julia,” Hunter said to me. “About Immaculata.”

  “Hunter,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. “I don’t want to hear any of it. I’m here to help you out tonight. That’s all. And because of that, your private life is your own.”

  “I disagree,” he said. “Especially since she lied. Yes, I did sleep with her, but that was over a year ago, and she’s been after me ever since. Please trust me when I say that when The Terrible Teens took off, I left my old life behind.”

  “And what old life is that?”

  “I think you already know from Immaculata and probably from Harper, so why lie? Yes, I had a good time in my twenties. There were years in my life when I had more fun than focus. But now that I’m older—and have absolute focus when it comes to my show—I refuse to screw it up. I rarely date anymore, which is why Abby has become a treasure to me. She and I are seriously just friends. When my show became a hit, I had to grow up fast—and I did. Today, I’m more focused on my career and my future than I ever was.”

  “As am I,” I said. “And I think we can both agree that nothing can get in the way of what we’re seeking. You know—success.”

  “My future isn’t just about my career, Julia.”

  God, he talks a good game . . .

  “Look,” I said. “We probably should go upstairs and see your parents. Because now isn’t the time to talk about this, Hunter—especially with so many people around us. I want tonight to be light and fun, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do. But when a wrecking ball from my past slams into an evening that I wanted to enjoy with you, I feel that I need to explain myself. I’m not that man anymore.”

  Whether he was or wasn’t, I didn’t care. The risk had just officially become too high. I not only needed to protect my heart, but I also needed to be present at my new job, which meant that I seriously needed to think of Hunter as nothing more than a friend, and nothing like the physical man of my dreams. Spending tonight with him was literally a one-off. And so I just took him warmly by the a
rm in an effort to defuse any tension between us, and started up the stairs.

  “Harper said that Tootie snipes from the side,” I said to him. “But since I’m with you tonight—and she’s celebrating your father—what should I expect from her?”

  “Why are you shutting down on me?” he asked.

  “I’m just trying my best to move us forward after that mess,” I said. “Be grateful for it. As we agreed, I’m only here as your plus-one tonight.”

  “So, I’ll say it again—is that the only reason you came tonight?” he asked.

  “Look,” I said. “If you’re expecting something more to happen between us, you need to know that you’re looking at the wrong girl. So, consider me your new Abby. Someone who wants nothing more than the best for you.”

  “Julia—”

  “Hunter, we’re almost at the second floor, which I presume is where the receiving line is. So, please, just answer my question about Tootie. Either she snipes from the side or she doesn’t.”

  “Immaculata just fucked me when it comes to having a chance with you, didn’t she?” he asked.

  When it comes to having a chance with me? Dude, we only met yesterday. Are you serious? If you are, then, yeah, she pretty much confirmed everything I’ve heard about you, and need to know about you.

  Despite my disappointment, I pressed on.

  “Would you please just answer my question about Tootie?”

  “Fine,” he said.

  “Good,” I said. “What gives when it comes to her?”

  “That’s the thing,” he said with a frustrated sigh as we ascended the stairs. “You never know what Tootie will pull. She’s an odd woman. She’ll either take to you at once, or she won’t want to have anything to do with you at all. And I apologize if she doesn’t, but if that’s the case and she does come after you, don’t you dare hesitate to give it straight back to her, because in a weird way, I think she kind of gets off on having an exchange of words with other women. Especially women.”

  Harper had said the same thing to me, which I found interesting.

  “As for her husband, Addy, don’t give him a second thought. He’s a true gentleman and, like everyone else, I know that you’ll love him at once and that the feeling will be mutual. Addy is fantastic.”

  “Good to hear,” I said. “Because I need that tonight.”

  “I’m more than Immaculata made me out to be, Julia,” he said as we reached the second floor.

  “Just be yourself, Hunter,” I said dismissively. “Your true self. That’s all that I ask. Because our relationship doesn’t end tonight. It will go forward when Pepper joins the cast of The Terrible Teens. And since the original girls want no part of her, I have a feeling that because Pepper’s mother is a messy alcoholic—which Pepper is trying her best to contain—you and I will be leaning on one another more than we want to if only to see this second season of the show through to its end.”

  “You know what?” he said.

  “Please stop trying to explain yourself, Hunter.”

  “I feel that I need to.”

  “But why? What’s the point? I need you to simply look at me as a friend who happens to be a woman.”

  “But that’s the thing,” he said as we reached the second floor. “I’m not sure that I can.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “HUNTER!” A BEAUTIFUL, older, petite woman called out when it was our turn in the receiving line. “Hellohoware, darling? As handsome as ever, I see. Come, come! Give darling Tootie an air kiss on each cheek. You know, so as not to destroy my makeup.”

  As I watched Hunter gently take Tootie by the shoulders and follow through with the air kisses, I studied her.

  She was fiftyish, but her face had been molded and pulled into something that stretched toward fortyish. She had blonde hair that just touched her shoulders, she wore understated jewels at her throat, wrists and fingers, and a pale yellow gown that was to die for. I knew next to nothing about fashion, but in her form-fitting dress, which could betray more mature curves, Tootie Staunton-Miller looked trim and terrific. She also reeked of class and old money.

  When Hunter pulled away from her and Tootie’s calculating gaze swept over me, I almost felt a chill.

  “And who is this?” she asked in surprise. “I thought you’d be bringing Abby with you tonight. Especially since j’adore you with Abby! You know I do, darling—even if she is a single mother and all, as awful as that sounds. Nevertheless, I do like her, and I still think she’s so right for you!”

  “Being a single mother doesn’t define Abby, Tootie,” Hunter said with steel in his voice.

  “Well, of course it doesn’t—it was just an observation, Hunter.”

  “Right. Just so you know, Abby’s child is ill, and since Abby will only ever be my friend, it is my pleasure to bring Julia Jacobs as my date for this evening,” Hunter said, looking at me. “Julia, this is Tootie Staunton-Miller.”

  I smiled warmly at her and extended my hand, which she shook.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said.

  “Isn’t it?” she said with a little titter before she let go of my hand.

  And what the hell was that? I wondered.

  “Julia,” she said, almost to herself. “Julia, Julia, Julia Jacobs. Why can’t I place that name? Hmm. Are you new in town? You must be, since I happen to know absolutely everyone who is anyone in this city, and somehow I’ve yet to see you out and about on the circuit.”

  The circuit? I thought. What in the hell is the circuit?

  “Actually, I’ve lived in the city for the past six years,” I said.

  Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  “Oh, I think I see,” she said. “You weren’t born in New York City, were you?”

  “No, I was born in Connecticut.”

  When I said that, relief literally washed over her face. “Well, of course you were born in Connecticut!” she said. “And naturally you hail from Greenwich, am I correct?”

  “No, I was born and raised in Hartford.”

  “Hartford?” she said. “I see. Well, at the very least, certainly you have family in Greenwich.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “I mean, at least that I know of,” I said.

  “Darling, believe me when I say that if you had family in Greenwich, you’d know it. Of that, I’m certain. But let’s move on, because now my curiosity has suddenly spiked when it comes to you. Where did you go to university?”

  “UConn.”

  The moment I said that, Tootie’s face flushed bright red as her lips parted in abject horror and disdain.

  “I’m sorry?” she said as she placed her hand to her throat. “Did you just call me a con at my own party?”

  “No,” I said, suddenly feeling flustered. “You asked where I went to university. I went to the University of Connecticut, otherwise known as UConn.”

  “Oh, well, thank goodness,” Tootie said. “Not for your questionable choice of university, of course, but that you didn’t insult me, because for a moment, I was almost certain that you had. And if you had, well, I don’t know what I would have done. I might have asked Hunter to stay, since tonight is about his father, after all. But I likely would have asked you to leave, Julia.”

  “Tootie,” the tall, distinguished-looking man at her left said. “That’s enough.”

  “Enough of what, Addy? I came to an honest conclusion, I’ve been corrected, everything is settled, and Julia and I are fine. Now, can’t we all just breathe a sigh of relief and move on? What do you do, Julia?”

  “I’m an assistant agent at CAA.”

  “CAA,” she said quizzically. “Does that stand for Curing Alcoholics Anonymously?”

  Seriously, bitch?

  “It stands for the Creative Artists Agency,” I said.

  “Sorry, not following . . .”

  “It’s the largest and most prestigious talent agency in the world,” Hunter said. “Julia’s c
lient was just signed to be on my television show.”

  “Remind me again what that show of yours is called, Hunter.”

  “The Terrible Teens,” he said. “It’s a reality show.”

  “You know,” she said to him with a trace of concern in her voice. “One day, I see greater things for you, Hunter. I really do, even if you were adopted at such a late age. Because of your father’s influence alone, I know in my heart that someday, you will achieve the greatness that he’s achieved. And if not that, it will be something akin to what your mother has achieved as a revered, renowned poet who continues to be lauded, lauded, and lauded again for her stirring body of work. This trying time in your life, of dealing with these terrible teen people—not to mention having to suffer the idea that everyone knows you work in the slums of reality television—shall pass, and you will ascend to bigger and more important projects. You’ll see, because Tootie can already see it for herself.”

  “I actually enjoy my work, Tootie,” Hunter said with a slight warning tone to his voice. “After a lot of hustling, I created my show on my own, it became a hit, and I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished and how things will progress for the show going forward.”

  “As you should be, Hunter,” Addy said. “The industry in which you work is competitive as hell. To get something on television these days is a feat. Good for you, is what I say. As well as congratulations.”

  When Tootie moved to speak, Addy reached out his hand to me, intentionally cutting his wife off short.

  “Addison Miller,” he said as we shook hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Julia. And I must say that the gown you’re wearing is certain to be a hit tonight. Tootie and I are happy to have you with us.”

  At that, Tootie cleared her throat in such a corrosive way, it sounded as if she had a cockroach lodged in it.