by Nina Levine
Shoot. Me. Now.
I don’t want to be bored by the details of my father’s re-election campaign. However, what I’m slowly figuring out is which battles to fight with my husband and which to walk away from. This is one to stay far, far away from. So I play the dutiful wife and say, “That’s good. Are you happy with it too?”
I can tell by the slight lift of his lips that this question pleases Joe. “I am. We really need you to come on strong in this interview on Friday, though.”
“Come on strong? What does that mean?”
“It means that since you’re insisting on keeping your job for now rather than taking on extra social engagements that would benefit the family, we need you to be extra enthusiastic about what your father’s doing.” He pauses. “And about our marriage.”
This is the real reason he’s in here talking with me. Joe usually spends his nights working at his office or in his home office unless we’re out at a social function. He doesn’t casually join me in the library for a chat.
I take a bigger sip of wine. I’m going to need it to get through this conversation. “What would you prefer I say about our marriage, Joe?”
“Chelsea,” he starts, low and with warning, but I cut him off.
“Should we mention what my father threatened me with if I didn’t marry you? Or perhaps we could talk about how our union has cemented his future with your family connections? Or wait, should we discuss more intimate details of our marriage?”
His lips pull into a thin, disapproving line. “I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you today, but it needs to end. I didn’t agree to this marriage simply to put up with this kind of attitude.”
I cock my head, feeling extra frisky tonight. Joe and I didn’t spend a great deal of time together before our wedding a month ago and haven’t spent much time having deep and meaningfuls since, so there’s some things I’d love to know about him. “Why did you agree to this marriage, Joe?”
“We both know the benefits of a Hearst aligning with a Novak.”
“Right, but there are plenty of other women out there from families like mine. You’re a good looking, well-connected guy; you could have taken your pick.”
“You’re not giving yourself enough credit, Chelsea.”
I don’t know what he means by that, and I’m not sure I want to. As far as I’m concerned, this marriage is nothing but an arrangement. Joe, on the other hand, has said and done a few things that make me wonder if he wants it to be more. I don’t want to open up a conversation about that.
“Fine,” I concede, “I’ll play the good girl and be enthusiastic about our amazing marriage. Both you and my father will be more than happy with my performance.”
That thin line of displeasure doesn’t disappear from Joe’s face as he stands. “Good.”
With that, he leaves me in peace. I stare after him and guzzle the rest of my wine. It’s going to be a long week of psyching myself up for that interview and fundraiser. It’s only Tuesday, so I have three long days ahead of me. Oh, God, and then I have Alexa’s birthday party on Saturday night. She hasn’t told me she’s invited Mason, but he’s her brother so of course she’s invited him. After our run-in today, I’m apprehensive about seeing him there. Actually, really fucking stressed is more like it. If I could rely on my brain to make some good decisions when he’s near, I’d be okay about it, but since I can’t, I’m not. And bringing this up with Alexa is something I’ve been nervous about doing, so I haven’t. I’ve stopped talking to her about her brother full stop. She’s become my closest friend over the last few months, and I don’t want to lose her. However, the way my stomach twists in on itself every time I think about this party makes me think I need to talk to her. Maybe it’ll help me prepare if I know whether he’ll be there.
I reach for my phone and tap out a text.
Me: Quick question: Is Mason going to be at your party this weekend?
She rings me instantly.
“God, I’m sorry to ask you that and put you in the middle,” I say.
“Babe, no. Stop apologising and stop avoiding talking to me about him, okay? I’ve noticed you’re doing that and I’m not into it. The minute we have an elephant in the room is the minute our friendship is doomed. I know this stuff with Mason is hard, but we don’t have to let it affect us.”
I exhale a long, relieved breath. “I’m so glad you said that. It’s been getting weirder every time I hold myself back from saying something.”
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, yes, he’ll be at my party. But I will give him strict instructions to leave you alone, okay?”
I love Alexa. Like, it’s crazy to me how close we’ve become over the last few months, and how I would miss her if she was no longer in my life. I’ve never had a friend like her.
“Please don’t do that,” I say. “We’re old enough to fight our own battles. I just needed to know so I could prepare myself.”
“He told me about today,” she says softly, like she’s concerned she’s bringing up a touchy subject.
“That surprises me.” Mason isn’t much of a talker unless he’s forced into a conversation.
“You and me both. I mean, he didn’t give me any real specifics of what you guys talked about, but he told me he saw you.”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know what we talked about today. God, it was a fucking debacle. One that should never have taken place.”
“Because we haven’t talked about him for a little while, how are you doing? Like really doing?”
“I’ll tell you in a sec, but first I want to say I’ve missed this.” With all my skirting around Mason over the last few weeks, our conversations have been a little shallow.
“I have too. Now tell me how you are.”
“Not great, as you can imagine, but I’m working on that.”
“Hmm, what does that mean?”
“It means I’m spending far more hours at yoga than ever, drinking more wine than ever, and considering taking up archery or maybe joining a shooting club.”
“Oh, babe, I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.”
“You have been. I just haven’t let you fully in. But you can come all the way in now and see the wreck I’ve created of my life. I’m warning you, it’s not pretty.”
“I can handle not pretty.”
“You know what?”
“What?”
“I think you should come to yoga with me.”
“Umm, how did we go from me telling you I can handle not pretty to you inviting me to yoga? You know I’m no sporty spice.”
I laugh, and it’s the best sound I’ve heard all day. Talking with Alexa never fails to make me feel better about whatever I’m dealing with. “You don’t have to be sporty for yoga. Please come. There’s this weird woman there who keeps asking me to have tea with her after class, and I’m running out of reasons to say no.”
“Oh, so you’re just using me.”
“Yes. Absolutely. You don’t really need to do the poses. You just need to show up and pretend to do them and then save me from tea with her.”
“It’s a hell yes from me then.”
“Your sarcasm is noted but not acknowledged, my friend. You’re coming. First class is at 6:00 a.m. tomorrow.”
“The fuck?”
The way she says that reminds me of her brother and my heart squeezes with pain as his face floods my mind. It takes my breath away, and I fight the tears that threaten to fall. God, am I ever going to get over him?
“Chelsea,” Alexa says, “are you still there?”
I take a deep breath. “Yes, sorry, you just sounded like Mason and it caught me off guard.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry. I only told you because of our new no-elephant-in-the-room agreement.”
“I’m glad you did.”
“Me too. Okay, so I’ll text you the address and see you in the morning. I’m excited you’re coming.”
“
I’m sure I am too, but I’m yet to locate that excitement.”
I laugh again. “I love you, Alexa. Thank you for calling.”
“Love you too. Now I must run because I need some fucking sleep since I’m getting up at the crack of dawn tomorrow.”
We end the call, and I stare at my phone for a long moment. Thank God for friends like Alexa. Not that I have any other friend like her, but since I know what it’s like not to have any good friends, I know the blessing she is. I may be stuck in a marriage I never wanted, but I’m not going to let that dictate my happiness in life. I’ll find other ways to be happy, starting with lots more Alexa time. First, though, I need to get through this birthday party.
5
Gunnar
“How the hell did she get you to wear a suit?” Hayden asks when I join him and our brothers in Alexa’s kitchen on Saturday night.
I shrug. “She asked. I said yes.” I haven’t worn a suit for years, but I’m not against wearing one.
Our older brother, Adam, shakes his head and drinks some of his scotch before saying, “If it was anyone else who asked, you would have told them where to go.”
I grin. “Highly fucking likely.” I accept the beer Calder hands me and down some before glancing between all three of them. “How long are you all in town for?”
Adam and Calder divide their time between Sydney and New York while Hayden lives in Los Angeles.
“I leave tomorrow,” Adam says. “I’ve got a deal we’re pushing through in New York that I need to be there for.”
“I leave on Tuesday,” Hayden says.
“You’re starting a new movie soon, aren’t you?” Calder says.
Hayden nods. “Yeah, in two weeks. Although, there’s an issue with the contracts, so fuck knows what’ll happen there. That might hold us up a bit.”
“It’s so fucking difficult being a movie star,” Calder says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Hayden grins. “Fuck you.”
Calder returns his grin. “Maybe you could hook me up with a job. It’s gotta be easier than dealing with the shit I’ve had to deal with this week at work.”
“Oh really?” Alexa says, joining us. “Maybe if someone had listened to me about that system upgrade we needed, your week wouldn’t have been so hard.” Her eyes land on me and she smiles. “Oh my God, you actually did it. You wore a suit for me.”
I hook my arm around her neck and pull her close for a hug. “Happy birthday, sis.”
She snakes her arm around my waist and rests her head against me for a beat before looking up at me. “This is my birthday present, isn’t it?”
“You know me too well.”
She lets me go. “Maybe one of these days, one of you will actually remember to buy me a present when it’s my birthday or Christmas or hell, for any random occasion.”
“I bought you coffee yesterday,” Calder says.
Alexa rolls her eyes. “That was an ‘I’m fucking sorry I’m an asshole’ coffee.”
“I prefer to think of it as an ‘early birthday present’ coffee,” Calder says.
Alexa jabs his bicep. “You suck.” She looks around at the four of us. “You all suck.”
We all laugh, and I realise it’s the first time in months I’ve fucking laughed. It’s the first time I haven’t felt the crushing weight of devastation that I’ve carried with me since that fucked-up night shit exploded with Chelsea.
“Alexa, darling,” our mother says, entering the kitchen.
“Mum.” Alexa hugs her.
Mum hugs all her sons before making her way to me. It’s only been a week since I’ve seen her, but before that, it was a good six months. I cut all ties to my father because I want nothing to do with him; time with Mum was a casualty of that decision. She might look elegant in her fancy dress and expensive jewels, but my mother hasn’t been well. When Alexa called me last week to tell me, I didn’t hesitate to visit her.
“Mason,” she says with a smile as she places her hand to my cheek. “A suit looks good on you, darling.” She wraps her arms around me, and I can’t help but notice again how frail she feels. Cancer has done this to her, and from what I’ve been told, she’s still got months of treatment ahead of her.
“How are you feeling?” I ask when she lets me go.
She keeps hold of my arm. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
Alexa and my brothers carry on a conversation while I say to Mum, “I do worry about you.”
We’re interrupted by my father when he cuts in. “You have a funny way of showing that.”
My eyes cut to him, finding his cold gaze zeroed in on me.
Before I can reply, Mum removes her hand from my arm and wraps it around his. “Please don’t start something, James. I don’t want Alexa’s party to be ruined.”
He barely pays attention to her. “Your mother has been ill for some time, son.”
I don’t miss what he’s not saying, but I’m not copping the blame for not knowing. “I came as soon as I knew.” He’s full of shit, too. She may have been ill for some time, but she kept that from all her children until last week. I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know.
“Not good enough. A son shouldn’t be distanced from his mother like you have been.”
My mother squeezes his arm. “James, please.”
“Cherise, he needs to accept that what he’s done is wrong,” Dad says, not taking his eyes off me.
“I’m not getting into this with you now, Dad,” I say, my tone as hard as his is cold. “I’m here for Alexa tonight, and like Mum, I don’t want to ruin her party.”
“A real man doesn’t walk away from his family,” Dad says, carrying on with his agenda.
“A real fucking man puts his family first,” I snarl, instantly fucking wishing I didn’t always let my father bring the asshole in me out. But here I am, the man my father made me, and I can’t fucking stop myself. Stabbing my finger at him, I carry on, “Don’t fucking come here and lecture me on how to be a man when you don’t know the first fucking thing about it yourself.”
Mum’s sharp intake of breath is the only sound to be heard as my siblings tune into the conversation taking place between my father and me.
“Fuck,” Adam mutters. “Do we really need to do this now, Mason?”
I glare at him. “He wanted to get into it.”
Alexa looks at me, pissed off. “And you always fucking take the bait.”
“Good Lord, Alexa, must you really use that language?” Mum says.
Dad shakes his head like he’s disgusted by me. “Alexa, your mother can’t stay long tonight. She needs her rest. We’ll be out on the balcony; make sure you come and see us before we leave.”
After they exit the kitchen, Alexa slaps my chest. “God, you are so frustrating! Why do you always have to argue with him?”
“It’s my specialty.” Fuck, I’m an asshole, just like my father. I told myself I wouldn’t get into it with him tonight, for Alexa, and here I am already screwing shit up.
“Ugh! I love you, but, man, you’re hard work.”
I hold up my hands. “I’ll keep out of his way. I’m on my best behaviour for the rest of the night.”
She rolls her eyes. “You don’t even know what bad behaviour is, so I don’t know how you expect to figure out what good behaviour is.”
I grin. “I never said I’d be good.”
Hayden slaps me on my back. “I’ll keep an eye on him, Lex.”
“Jesus, that’s the blind leading the blind,” she says. Then, pointing at us, she directs, “Keep away from our parents and your exes, and I’ll accept that as my birthday present.”
Hayden frowns. “One of my exes is here?”
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Alexa says. “You have so fucking many of them one can never be sure when they’ll pop up.” She reaches for her glass of wine. “Right, promise me you’ll all behave. I have to go see one of my friends and then I’m coming back to do our shots.”
Adam st
eps forward and places his hand on her arm. “Before you go, we have something for you.”
Alexa’s eyes widen a little. “Oh God, what? Please tell me this isn’t like that time the four of you got me that stripper who turned out to prefer Mason to me.”
We all laugh, remembering that birthday. I’d never experienced a lap dance until that night; it was a fucking shame I ended up with cock in my face rather than pussy.
Calder hands Alexa an envelope, and she opens it while eyeing us like she doesn’t trust us. She opens the birthday card inside and reads it, her eyes widening a hell of a lot more than a moment ago.
“Holy shit,” she says, looking at us again. “You guys. I have no words.”
“Just tell us you’ll be there,” Hayden says.
“Of course I’ll be there. I just, I can’t even. Gah. Since when do you four listen to anything I ever say?”
“All the fucking time,” I say. “You never fucking shut up, so we’re forced to listen.”
She bursts into tears before opening her arms and saying, “Get in here. Group hug.”
Alexa’s the only person we know who can make us do shit like this. She’s also the only person we know who can make us figure out our schedules and align them so we can organise a week away for the five of us. Trying to make that shit happen might be one of the hardest things we’ve ever done, but we locked it in and booked rooms at a Port Douglas resort as her gift because we know it’s the one thing she actually really wants: everyone together for an extended amount of time.
“Okay, boys, I’ll be back soon,” she says when she pulls out of our hug. “I love you all for this gift. And you”—she looks at me, her eyes softening—“I love you for coming even though I know this is hard for you.”
I cup the back of her head and pull her close. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I say, “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
With one last smile at me, she heads out of the kitchen in search of her friend. My mind instantly circles back to the fact Chelsea and her husband will be at this party, something I’d almost managed to forget while hanging out with my family.
