Melt My Heart

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Melt My Heart Page 22

by Anna Cove


  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  LAURA HAD BEEN TO A thousand restaurants like this in her previous life. Restaurants with trendy mosaic tiles on the walls, with perfectly placed recessed lighting, imitation farm slab tables and fake industrialized ceilings. The menu at this particular establishment had a few select delicious-and-pretentious-sounding items, none of which were priced under forty dollars. The food came in portions small enough for a one-year-old. Way too much alcohol flowed freely from bottles offered by pressed and dressed waiters.

  She'd thought, when Cal had told her she had free creative power, that she wouldn't have to do any of these dinners. But here she was, an hour and forty-five minutes in, because the head honchos at the studio wanted to sell advertising and demanded that she be there to do so. While dropping her off, Cal had made her promise not to talk about her idea because it was still too early in the process. So, in essence, she was just selling herself.

  She thought, when she'd traded being in front of the camera for being behind it, that she was done selling herself.

  She sipped her wine slowly and listened in on the conversations around her. Golf. Parties. Bars. Who was fucking whose wife. Who was seen partying with which influencer.

  Who cares? She thought. Who cares? Who cares? Who cares?

  Laura wanted to be home right now. She wanted to be holding Aaron. Her arms—and her breasts—ached for it. He was fine, she knew, at home with a well-vetted nanny, but still. She wanted to hold him, and her mind kept drifting back to him even though the man sitting next to her—one of the very execs she was supposed to be wooing—was talking about his recent trip to Bermuda. And scuba diving.

  And Laura just didn't care.

  She would much rather be back in her mountain cabin, sipping a glass of wine with Dylan as they talked over how their day had gone.

  But this is where your work is, she told herself. And this is only a phase. One moment in the grand scheme of things.

  She refocused on the exec in front of her. His hair was falling out and the lights shined off his greasy scalp underneath. He was talking about which cruise he was going to take next and did she like cruises?

  She nodded. God, I don't fucking CARE. "Excuse me," she said, right in the middle of one of his sentences. "I need to visit the ladies' room. I'll be right back."

  "Of course, my dear."

  Laura's face might have been smiling, but she was shuddering right down to her toes. My dear. She would show him whose dear she was. Ugh. That didn't even make sense. On the way to the bathroom, she sent off a quick text to Cal.

  Still in meeting. Remind me why I'm here again?

  YOU GOT A DEAL!

  Right. The deal. The deal. So far, Cal did seem like he was treating her differently, acknowledging her wishes. He had even expressed his displeasure in asking her to do this. But he promised it would only be one meeting, and that was the only reason she was here.

  She could do this. She just needed a quick breather to refresh.

  Securing herself in a stall, she leaned against the wall and typed out another text, this one for Dylan.

  I miss you so much it hurts.

  I miss you, too, love. Dylan's response came back quickly, and just as quickly, another message. Two days until we see each other again! SO CLOSE.

  Laura sighed and let her head fall against the stall wall. It wasn't close enough. This lunch felt like it had been lasting days, like some weird Alice in Wonderland time-bending shit. She remained there for a minute longer, then another minute. The bathroom door opened, letting in the sounds of the restaurant, then closed again, muffling them.

  Laura took one more breath and stepped outside the stall.

  The woman who had entered was standing at the sinks, washing her hands. Laura joined her, then realized she was one of the execs at her table.

  "You just had a baby, right?" the exec asked.

  "Yeah, in April."

  "You're doing a great job." She rubbed the soap up her wrists and over the backs of her hands. "I know how hard it is to come back into an environment like this, and you're holding it together really well."

  Laura appreciated the unexpected compliment. "Do you have a child?"

  "Yep. He's seventeen now. It goes so fast."

  Laura glanced back at the woman, really looking at her for the first time. Her face had a few lines around the eyes, but that was it. Otherwise, she had smooth vibrant skin and dark hair. She wouldn't have guessed she was old enough to have a seventeen-year-old.

  She met Laura's eyes and smiled. "It was even worse fifteen years ago."

  "I can only imagine."

  "Keep it up. They're winding down, but they still have the purse strings. They give you the money and you get to decide what to do with it. That thought is what got me through all those early years."

  "Thanks," Laura said.

  The woman nodded and left.

  She was right. Laura just had to play the game, just like she had for so many years before. Even if she no longer wanted to play, it would be worth it this time. Yes. Just a few more minutes of this.

  Laura followed the woman back to the table and managed to engage in the conversation for a while. If she hadn't been so tired, she might have been able to do more, but she was doing the best she could. And she was doing well, apparently. But even with her renewed energy, she couldn't help thinking that all this was pointless and empty.

  Was this what she really wanted?

  Her dream had come true—theoretically—but it still seemed so far away. Unreal.

  At the end of the meeting, she shook hands with the advertising people and smiled and did everything she was supposed to do. When she stumbled outside, blinking into the sun, the heavy, stinking summer air of the city assaulted her. She looked back and forth, trying to remember which way was home. She took in the clogged streets, a plastic bag flying through the air on a hot breeze, two receipts glued to the ground by some unidentified paste, and the dingy dirty buildings towering over her. The blaring traffic horns grated on her nerves, magnifying the headache she already felt creeping up the base of her neck.

  She had loved this place once. She was certain she had.

  But she couldn't remember the person she was when that was her truth.

  "YOU WON'T BELIEVE HOW lovely it is to see your face." Laura had barely found the time to connect with Dylan for the past couple days, and now that she had her on FaceTime, she could feel three-quarters of the tension from the week melt away. She had almost forgotten how the sight of Dylan's smile, with its little gap between the front two teeth, was a balm to her soul.

  But as Laura spoke, Dylan's smile fell. "What's the matter?"

  Laura stirred her tea, closing her eyes. "I want to talk about this with you. I just would much rather hear about your day first."

  "Are you sure? I'm all ears." Dylan pressed her fingers behind the lobes of her ears.

  God she's amazing. I want to spend every minute of my time with her. Maybe that's what's going on with me. I'm just silly in love. "I'm sure. Tell me what you did today."

  "Well... I put in my notice."

  When Laura met Dylan, she would never have imagined this day would come. Dylan was so attached to her job, to helping people. Laura felt a pang of guilt as she realized the enormity of what she was asking Dylan to do.

  And she wasn't even sure it was for a good reason.

  No, she wouldn't go there. Not now. She focused on what this step would mean for them. It would mean Dylan was going to be with her. Soon. For good.

  "And you were going to let me ramble on about my boring day? Tell me how it went."

  "Marcia almost fainted on the spot. She didn't believe me at first..." Dylan went on to talk about how over the course of the day her coworkers congratulated her, taking her out to lunch. Dylan rarely ever gushed, but she gushed about this. About the food and conversation. It sounded loads better than Laura's lunch.

  "And," Dylan said, pausing.

  "Yes?"


  "I got an interview for a job as a dispatcher in the city."

  Laura's jaw almost dropped. She hadn't expected Dylan to interview for jobs so quickly. She'd assumed they'd have a couple weeks where they would get to be a family together. But Dylan was obviously excited, so Laura dug as deep as she could for the joy Dylan deserved. "That's amazing, Dyl. Really. I knew you could do it."

  Not that she needed that kind of encouragement. Geez, Laura was a mess today. It was taking every ounce of her willpower to stop herself from saying forget it. Forget it all. It isn't actually what I wanted. Go, get your job back. Let's stay in the cabin on Big Badger Mountain for the rest of our lives and build a community in Love Falls.

  But then she would be a quitter. And she still had something to prove. The job, the job that she wanted, hadn't even started yet.

  "Are you sure you're all right, sweetheart? You seem really distracted." Dylan palmed through her hair, then rested her chin on her hand.

  Laura shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I am. I had a rough day, and a long lunch where I drank far too much wine. Wine early in the day is always a bad idea."

  "A lunch?"

  "Yeah, with advertisers for my project. These kinds of meetings are something we have to do in this industry. I just forgot how much I hated them."

  Dylan frowned again, a little line appearing between her brows. "I thought you weren't going to have to do anything like that this time. Don't you already have the deal?"

  For once, Laura just wanted to curl up against Dylan and be held. She didn't want to talk. She didn't want to articulate her complex feelings. And this question shot to the heart of the whole thing. It's one she kept asking herself, too. "It's just this week and next with the meetings. Then it should calm down and we'll get to the good part. I can make my series on my own terms."

  A series.

  Something bothered her about this whole thing. The network had given her a whole series, but there were so many people out there who deserved it more than her. So many people who had proved themselves dependable and, more importantly, as money-makers. So why pick Laura, a disgraced soap opera star with little experience making her own stuff?

  It was a question she hadn't dared ask, and it only came up now because she was too tired to police her thoughts.

  "You should think about putting your foot down, Laura. Have you met with the network executives yet to talk about expectations? My therapist said happiness is in the expectations and I have to agree with her."

  "Yeah, you're right," said Laura. "Tomorrow I'll ask Cal to set up a meeting, and maybe we can work out something where he goes to these sales pitches, or they send someone in my place. I mean, we haven't even signed a contract yet."

  "You haven't?"

  "Nope."

  "Huh. And you don't think that's odd either?"

  Laura let out a long sigh. She didn't know what was normal when it came to the business side of things. She had always trusted Cal to manage it for her, and he had done a very good job making her rich. But now she didn't trust him like she used to. The whole Sydney thing had made her question so many things. And though he hadn't been sending Laura to parties or setting her up with other celebrities this time, wasn't this just as bad?

  "You know what? You're right. I've been so busy fleshing out my idea and meeting with advertisers and taking care of Aaron... I forgot to have a status conversation with Cal. And meet with the execs. Thank you, Dyl."

  "No problem." And the smile was back. "How is our little man?"

  "Asleep. Hopefully he'll stay that way for a few hours. I've got so much to do before bedtime."

  "Don't work too hard."

  Laura checked her watch. It was already eight thirty. Since Aaron, she was always aware of how much sleep she would be getting given his wake times. Five hours until he woke up for the first time. If she got to bed before midnight, she'd be lucky to get six hours of sleep total. Unlikely, given how much work she still had to do. She sighed. "It's just for a couple of weeks. Then we'll settle into a rhythm."

  "And I'll be there for a visit the day after tomorrow, don't forget. I can help you with anything you need."

  "I couldn't forget even if I lost my mind. I would still know you were coming. It's the only thing pulling me through."

  "I love you," Dylan said.

  "I love you, too. Bye." Laura closed the top of her laptop just before her eyes flooded with tears. They spilled over as quickly as they came, and she dashed them away before they could get far. There was no room for crying now. But as she stared at her sparse apartment with its sleek furnishings, and at the city with the lights blinking on for the evening, she decided to give herself five minutes to mourn what she was losing. The mountains, the free time, fresh air, time with Aaron, Dylan. Five minutes and then she would get back to work.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THE CITY WAS MORE JARRING than Dylan had remembered. Of course, when Dylan had lived in a city it had been in Albany, which was small, and though the capital of the state, it wasn't The City. There was so much noise and traffic in The Big Apple—both vehicle and pedestrian—that the moment Dylan stepped out of Penn Station and tried to find her bearings, she almost retreated inside.

  It was loud. The sun, without any trees to shade it, glared off glass buildings and into Dylan's eyes. She pulled out her backpack and dug inside for her sunglasses, looking to dim at least one of her senses. Because it wasn't dim. It was loud in every way possible.

  But Laura loved it and it was just something Dylan would have to get used to.

  Dylan texted Laura telling her she had arrived and would let her know when she was close. As she consulted her phone for directions, people rushed by her, jostling her shoulders. The heat was oppressive, boiling off the streets and buildings. It had to be at least ten degrees hotter here. And it smelled god-awful.

  But Laura was here. And that made all this tolerable to Dylan.

  Laura had volunteered to send her a car earlier in the day, but Dylan had said no. She wanted time to get used to the place where she would one day, very soon, live. Though it was over ten blocks to Laura's apartment, she decided to make the journey on foot. She didn't think she could handle a duffel bag and a backpack on the subway, especially with people moving so quickly. She figured out the general direction she should be walking and headed off that way.

  The walk took longer than she thought. Not only were the blocks longer, but the sidewalks were thronged with people. Every time she reached a respectable pace, a string of people would block her way or a crossing light would turn red. It loosened up about three blocks from Laura's. Two blocks from the apartment building, she texted Laura.

  I'm almost there.

  The three dots appeared on Dylan's phone, letting her know Laura was typing back a message.

  I got caught up in a meeting. I'll be home in an hour.

  Dylan's arms were burning from carrying her bags. She'd run out of water a few blocks ago. There were stores and restaurants all around her. She decided to stop into a sandwich shop to buy them both lunch and a drink. Loaded down further, she practically collapsed on the curb when she arrived outside Laura's apartment building.

  And I thought I was in good shape.

  It was the heat, Dylan thought. The heat and the heavy bags and the lack of water and food. That would get anyone in a huff with a ten-block walk. And the blocks were, like, three times the size of a suburban block or any block in Albany. Dylan let her bags fall on the curb next to her. Maybe she should have taken Laura up on the offer of a car, but that was a moot point now.

  She checked her phone again. Laura had texted almost an hour ago, which meant she would arrive any minute. Dylan had come up with a plan for the weekend while on the train ride down. Tomorrow, they would take Aaron to the Bronx Zoo. The next day they would check out this vegan sushi place Dylan wanted to try. She hadn't planned much else, but she would, if necessary. Laura would get to relax and wouldn't have to think about a thing other than ta
gging along. Dylan would take care of it all.

  Dylan worried about Laura. Over the course of one week, she had gone from luminous and happy to stressed and tired looking. She had reassured Dylan it would only be this week and maybe next that would be so exhausting, but Dylan didn't quite believe that. She wouldn't ever tell Laura, but all this stuff just seemed like extra fluff that she shouldn't have to do. Dylan waited outside the apartment building for fifteen more minutes. Still no Laura.

  She texted her. Are you almost here? I've got lunch!

  Nothing.

  Fifteen more minutes passed, and Dylan broke into the new bottle of water. Fifteen more minutes and she started breaking off tiny bits of her sandwich to ease her grumbling stomach. The sun was high in the sky and Dylan felt like she was about to pass out from the heat. The door opened behind her. When Dylan turned, a whoosh of air conditioning cooled the sweat on her forehead.

  "Are you Dylan Wilson?" a man in a uniform asked.

  "Yes?"

  "Ms. Munro asked me to let you inside the building."

  Dylan checked her phone. Seeing nothing, she made sure she had service. Why hadn't Laura texted her if she was going to be later than she thought? Still, the promise of air conditioning beckoned her in. She settled her things on the bench inside, across from the desk of the doorman.

  "Did she say anything else? Anything about when she'd be here?" Dylan asked.

  The man's sharp eyes flitted to her. He was young, with a buzz cut and dark brown eyes. "No, I'm sorry, ma'am."

  "Can I perhaps go up to her apartment to wait for her?"

  "I can't let you do that. All guests must be signed in on their first visit by the host."

  "But you just spoke with her on the phone. Isn't that enough?"

  "Those are the rules, ma'am. Please sit. Ms. Munro will be along soon, I bet."

  Ms. Munro did not come along soon. She didn't come along for another hour, and by then Dylan had eaten her lunch and Laura's lunch, drunk all her water, texted Laura about fifteen times, and stared at precisely seventeen people who had come into the apartment complex. None of them had been Laura.

 

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