She acted like a strong, confident woman with her keen brain and thoughtful opinions, but then she’d say the meanest things about herself. It was starting to drive me crazy. In between bites of ice cream she panned her own ability to write and that’s when I let her have it.
“You gotta knock that shit off, woman.” I clipped the back of her head lightly.
“What?”
“Don’t talk about yourself like you’re stupid or incapable of putting a sentence together. If you’re fishing for compliments, don’t bother.”
“I’m not fishing for compliments,” she snapped.
“Could have fooled me. Why else would someone who is up for the National Book Award—”
“How’d you know about that?” She pulled out of the clutch we were in to stare at me.
Pulling her down and forcing her back into the crook of my arm, I ignored her question.
“Never mind how I know. You’re up for the award and yet you talk about yourself like you’re a moron with the IQ of a gnat. It’s not attractive.”
Vivienne harrumphed but didn’t move away. After a while, I felt her sigh.
“I don’t do it on purpose. I swear I don’t.”
I kissed the top of her forehead and squeezed her tight.
“I didn’t think you did. I bet when you were a kid and had no confidence, you got into the habit and never broke it.”
“Sort of, yeah.” She took in a deep, shuddering breath and I changed my tone.
“Break it now, Viv,” I admonished her gently, stealing Pepper’s pet name. “Sounds like you had the status quo going for a long time, but now you could have a really successful career ahead of you, if you want it badly enough. But you have to believe in yourself. You have to know how talented and smart you are. You are. If you don’t get over it, you’ll go back to the mediocre, just-getting-by writer.”
I stopped talking and lifted her chin so she could see my eyes and that I meant what I said.
“If that’s what you want, cool. But I get the feeling there’s a lot more in you.”
“There is.” Her voice was so faint I could barely hear her.
“Atta girl.” I closed my eyes while I rested my head on the pillow behind me, content to hold her and listen to silence and peace. I thought I would fall asleep that way, but I think she took my speech to heart when I felt her hands begin to pry open my robe so she could work on her confidence.
Chapter 25
In spite of the several hours of enormously satisfying sex, I had a difficult time sleeping. When I did, it was filled with weird dreams starring Bruce, several children we’d never had, my dad, and a strange apocalyptic feeling of doom. When I didn’t sleep, I was content to listen to Will’s breathing as he slept beside me until my brain wound itself up with thoughts and feelings I didn’t want to consider.
As I lay there, I recalled the conversation from the bathtub. We both agreed there was no pressure. We both admitted there would be no strings attached. In reality, we had the perfect situation going. Neither one of us had any responsibility to the other and we could behave as hedonistically as we wanted. That thought alone made me shiver pleasantly and I huddled a little deeper beneath the comforter.
But that wasn’t really reality. At least not for me. I didn’t have enough experience with men to know what I was doing. I could speak the words I thought Will wanted to hear, but I had no way of knowing if my heart would follow the rules. Relationships with men and intimacy frightened me. I’d only ever had one of them in my almost forty years of life. I met Bruce in the first semester of the first year of college. He was the first man who paid attention to me as a woman. It was a heady, addictive feeling and I fancied myself in love with him from the very first minute. We’d had three years together total from the day we met to the day he died. That was all. I had met, married and lost the only person I’d ever loved in the span of three short years.
But had I really loved Bruce? That was the question I never said out loud, ever, to anyone. Nineteen was so young. I was so idealistic and full of piss and vinegar then. I thought I was going to have a completely different life. Instead, I ended up married to a soldier, traveling around the country, following him from base to base until he’d been shipped overseas. In many ways, it was the perfect relationship. He was gone doing his military thing so much that I spent a great deal of time alone writing passionate stories and romanticizing our marriage. When Bruce was home, he was the perfect prince charming. It was easy to convince myself I was really in love.
Truthfully, I think I was more relieved I would never have to date again. Sex with Bruce was new and exciting and as satisfying as I could have expected it to be, not knowing anything about it beyond what I read or saw in the movies. It was enough. He wanted to be with me, take care of me, have a life and family with me. He was handsome, smart, and treated me with respect. At nineteen, I’d breathed a huge sigh of relief thinking I’d gotten it “right” on the first try and wouldn’t have to worry about it ever again.
And then he died.
I was obviously devastated because the perfect life I thought I had ended as abruptly as Bruce’s life. I had no contingency plan. I hadn’t finished college, I didn’t have a job. I was living in Lacey, Washington, while Bruce was stationed at Fort Lewis. My parents came out to get me and bring me home, all the while helping me deal with the military red tape. In the end, my three-year adventure came to a halt and I found myself right back where I started: living with my folks, going to college, trying to become a writer.
How had I gone from that to lying naked beside a hot, famous rock star? I didn’t have a clue. For most of the last seventeen years I hid myself in the same little ’burb where I was born and raised. I pumped out the average chick-lit novel a couple of times a year to supplement the small pension I got from the government and Bruce’s life insurance. I hung out with nice, safe girlfriends and my parents. I volunteered at the local animal shelter from time to time, and helped out at a local senior center once in a while. I had even consented to a few dates here and there over the years, but they rarely panned out. Honestly, I knew I gave off a “not interested” vibe whether I was or not, because the effort to get to know another man was too much work for my wounded and terrified soul.
Turning my journals into a story and then putting that story out there for the world was what got me next to such a handsome man, in this bed, in this hotel. No, my husband dying was what got me to this point. That was the catalyst. Had it not happened, my whole life would have been different, traveling a different path. I’d spent the last seventeen years lamenting that fact instead of learning to accept it and following a new road.
What a waste of time. I could have been doing this kind of thing all along. I could have found some other love and learned so much more. I groaned inwardly, flipping onto my back to stare up at the ceiling. I wished I could talk to Pepper about it all, but as much as I loved her and as close as we were, I was too ashamed. These were the thoughts and feelings I didn’t share with anyone. They stayed locked inside. If anyone on the planet ever figured out that I regretted the last twenty years of my life, I’d never be able to leave the house again. I much preferred being viewed as the saddened widow who never got over the love of her life. It was way more romantic and understandable than consciously choosing to hide away and avoid life. My mother would beat the crap out of me if I told her the truth. Pepper would hold me down while she did it. I’d never be able to live with their disappointment.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew that it didn’t really matter what circumstances got me to this point. What mattered was how I proceeded. A door had opened and I was being given an opportunity to change how my future would be. I knew it couldn’t possibly include Will, after our conversation the night before. He didn’t want any attachments or complications. I couldn’t blame him. Why would he want to be involved with an older, boring woman like me when he could have his pick of the most beautiful women on Earth? I tried to tell myself i
t didn’t matter. What I learned from Will already would stay with me forever. Surely there had to be other handsome, intelligent men in the world who could be as passionate and interesting as him. Even someone who would support me in my writing.
As I watched the night sky outside gradually lighten to an orange-yellow glow, Will sighed and moved closer to me. I didn’t know if he was awake or not, but he threw his arm over my waist and buried his face into the back of my neck. It was as warm and cozy a feeling as the sunrise filling the room. I tried to block out my thoughts and enjoy the intimacy, hoping it would lull me back to sleep. It didn’t. I kept staring out the window, thinking about the last twenty years and the next twenty. I was obsessing and I knew it wasn’t a good thing.
I shifted away from Will and he groaned a little before flipping onto his back, leaving me free to climb carefully out of the bed. With my arms wrapped around me in a protective hug, I watched him for more than a minute. In spite of the stubble on his face, he looked so young while asleep. His skin was smooth and unlined, and I envied the complete relaxation of his body. His breathing was deep and even and his arms jutted out to the sides, leaving him spread eagle on the soft mattress. Part of me wanted to hop right back into the bed and snuggle up with him, maybe even wake him up with some sort of surprise move I’d only read about in books but never tried. But a larger part of me wanted more time to myself to think.
I jumped into the shower, hoping it wouldn’t wake him and hoping it would. It didn’t. I was able to shampoo and condition my hair and wash my body thoroughly for the first time in two days. Luxuriating under the spray, I stretched my arms and legs, listening to the muscles and tendons pop and crack. It occurred to me that, except for last night, I’d slept better in the last couple of nights than I had in years, the repose of the satisfied. Had I gotten the rest I needed last night, I might not be standing in the shower obsessing over the past and worrying about the future.
When the water began to run cold in spite of my cranking the faucet all the way to hot, I admitted defeat and climbed out. I put on my yoga pants and tank top, abandoned from the night before, and brushed my teeth for five minutes. Moisturized, deodorized, and hair brushed, I tiptoed out of the bathroom to find Will still in bed, but back on his stomach and buried deep beneath the blanket. I could only see the top of his head and a little of his forehead because he pulled the blanket up so far.
I sat on the corner of the bed to pull on a pair of socks. In spite of the warm glow of sunshine, my toes felt like ice. As I yanked them on, I watched him sleep some more, fascinated once again by how at ease he was. I reached out and put my hand on his leg and rubbed it gently, glad the blanket was between his flesh and my hand. Feeling his skin directly might have been my undoing. He never moved, not even a twitch. I squeezed and then drew my hand back and smiled.
Reluctantly, I stood up and reached for my cell phone on the bedside table, then headed out to the large balcony off my room. The view was even more gorgeous from up close instead of from the bed, and I could see the ocean glinting in the distance. I chose a chair and sat cross legged while my phone powered up. Another four missed calls from Jake filled the screen. I listened to the irritated voicemails instructing me where and when the next meeting was, then texted him my most repentant apologies swearing on my father’s grave that I would be there. I probably should have called him, but it was only 7:30 a.m. and I couldn’t face the admonishments so early.
I decided to call Pepper instead.
“Hello? Is this my long lost friend from Michigan who’s abandoned me for good sex?” came a cheery, caffeinated voice.
“You’re up?!”
“You bet. I’ve been sitting here enjoying my second pot of coffee waiting for your call.” Pepper sounded a little miffed.
“I know and I’m sorry. Things got a little, er, out of hand.” I nibbled on my fingernail, grateful she couldn’t see me.
“Ya think?” she snorted. “Don’t worry about it. Where are you now?”
“I’m at the hotel. Will’s with me, still sleeping.”
“Hot damn!” she yelled and I heard some commotion in the background. I imagined she was spilling coffee. “Hold on a sec, I spilled my coffee.” It was my turn to snort as I waited, and when she returned, she demanded details.
“Well, you know what happened at the house, and by the time we got up the next day you were already gone.” I stared out into the sky watching seagulls dip and swoop and the clouds float lazily in the fresh sun.
“I don’t give a shit about that,” she snapped. “How was the sex?”
“Pepper,” I demurred.
“Tell!” she insisted.
“Very, very, very good.” I giggled like a teenager. “The best I’ve ever had in my entire life. Probably in any lifetime.”
Pepper cackled and hooted with delight. “Is he–”
“Stop!” I held up a hand I knew she couldn’t see. “Don’t ask. I will tell you as much as I am willing to, but I will not gossip about his size.”
“That’s not what I was going to ask!” she protested. I imagined her bottom lip jutting out in a classic Pepper pout.
“It wasn’t?”
“All right, all right. Fine, don’t tell me. Besides, I’ve already read the tabloid gossip.”
I shook my head and grinned, but then got serious. “Pepper, I’m sorry if I fought you about the hookup and I apologize for anything I might have said to hurt your feelings. You were right. I needed the last two nights.”
“That’s okay Viv,” Pepper sighed. “I’m just glad it happened. You both are such dear people to me.”
For the next half hour, I answered her questions, amazed at how easily I reverted to sounding like a sixteen-year-old. I told her about the terrible goodbye we’d had and how he came back with the pint of ice cream. Brilliant, she called it. I didn’t bother to tell her about the conversation in the tub because it didn’t really matter in the end. Feeling better with some girl talk under my belt, I looked forward to when she and I would be together again. “I have a meeting at the Gleaming Bee offices, so I’m going to have to get going soon. Let’s do lunch after.”
“Viv,” Pepper said and I could hear the hesitation in her voice. “I appreciate you calling to let me know you’re okay and I loved hearing all the juicy details. But the one thing I’m not hearing is how you really feel about Will.”
“What do you mean?” I was dreading this.
“Do you like him?”
“Of course!”
“No, I mean, really like him.”
I closed my eyes and rubbed them. “What is this? Middle school? Are you asking me if I ‘like-like’ him? Sheesh.” I thought by making light of her question, it would throw her off track. Duh, I really must have been exhausted to think that would work.
“Knock it off,” Pepper growled. “You know what I mean.”
I knew it was a make-it-or-break-it moment, so I went with what would be the safest route. Even it wasn’t too soon to consider, even if Will wanted to be with me, even if I wasn’t too scared to be with him, it just wasn’t a possibility. We were too different.
“No, Pep. He’s a beautiful, wonderful guy. He’s funny and smart and a lot of fun to be with, in and out of the sack. But we’re really different kinds of people.”
“Is that so bad?”
“No, of course not. There’s nothing wrong with him, it’s just that I couldn’t live the kind of life he does. I’m a homebody and I like my privacy. He’s a major celebrity and everyone wants a piece of him.”
That was really what it was about, now wasn’t it? I never could stand to have any attention placed on me and, starting with my friendship with Pepper, I’d always chosen people to take that attention away. She was beautiful and vivacious, I was not. People looked at her when she spoke, not at me. I could still be a part of the world when in her company, but I could hide in the shadows and observe, not participate. Granted, the foundation scandal had put me into the limelight
, but that would eventually fade and I would find someone else to run it and interference with the world.
“Piffle,” Pepper said. “If you wanted to make it work, you could. Sounds to me like you’re too afraid to try.”
“No.” I shook my head. “After everything I’ve been through in the last three days, I don’t think I’ll be afraid of anything anymore. But I do know I don’t want to jump into some pseudo relationship with the first guy I’ve slept with since my husband died.”
Pepper gasped. “Say that again?”
“Shit.” I slapped my forehead with my hand and mentally kicked myself in the ass about a thousand times.
“I thought you said—”
I cut her off. “I know what I said—”
“But you told me—”
“I lied, okay?!” I shouted.
“Okay!”
“Don’t give me grief about it,” I warned.
“I won’t,” Pepper promised. “I’m surprised you aren’t already in love with Will then. Seventeen years is pretty damn long time to go without.”
The tension relieved, I guffawed and stood up to stretch my numbing legs.
“Yeah, you’d think I’d be clinging to him like Saran Wrap on leftovers. But I’m smarter than that. And older now. I don’t want to confuse things.”
“With him?”
“With me! My whole life is starting over at this point and I don’t want to waste any more time making bad decisions.”
“I wouldn’t call Will a bad decision.” There was a peevish tone in her voice.
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“If you stopped and thought about it, you might realize he could be a very good decision for you.”
I glared at the screen, not wanting the voice of reason pushing aside all of my warm, gushy feelings from the last couple of days.
“Not now, Pep.”
“All right,” Pepper said softly. “Go get ready for your meeting and call me when you get back.”
“I’ll do it.”
The Widow and the Rock Star Page 13
