Rock My World

by Coulter, Sharisse

  “Look, I don’t feel comfortable discussing my marriage with you. Jenna and I have our issues, but I know with absolute certainty that she’s the one I want.” He looked up at her, watching her cheeks turn pink as she stared at the floor. “Look, you’re a beautiful woman. You have incredible confidence, and that’s sexy.” She looked up at him, a shy smile playing on her lips. “You’re ambitious and driven. There’s no question you’re a catch for any guy with half a brain.” She beamed up at him, seemingly forgetting about the rejection. He backtracked. “If you’d just rely on those things and stop manipulating people, I think you’d be surprised by the guys who would take interest.”

  He watched as her gaze strayed from his face back down to her feet. Her cheeks flushed pink again and he thought he could see tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Shit, don’t cry, he thought. He stood up and gave her an awkward hug. She cried into his shoulder as he shushed her the way he used to do with Felicity as a baby to calm her down. Eventually, she pulled herself together and pulled back a little. Her blonde hair fell around her shoulders, creating a small cave of space between their faces. She kissed him softly on the mouth, with all the rarely surfacing tenderness she possessed. He let her kiss him but pulled back, his hands on her shoulders. He looked intently into her face.

  “I have to go now. Okay?”

  She nodded. He picked up his stuff and left the room.

  It wasn’t until he sat down on the plane that he finally had a chance to process what was happening—with his poor little girl, his family, marriage, career. It was all such a mess. He leaned back in his seat, his heart aching to comfort Felicity, and cried.

  Jackson Jones and Ira Stearn were a separate problem—heartless bastards, all of them—but they could wait. He felt gutted that he couldn’t keep his daughter from pain, but at least he could be there for her, whatever she needed.

  Chapter 53

  The memorial was beautiful, somber. Jenna and Alex sat on either side of Felicity near the front of the church auditorium. Jenna had never been inside a Unitarian church. Its old world façade, though spectacular, seemed out of place in downtown LA. The packed auditorium felt spacious with its high windows and sky-high ceilings.

  The Reverend gave a heartfelt eulogy, reflective rather than preachy. As he spoke, her mind wandered to Mrs. Parker and the excruciating pain she must be in. For self-preservation purposes, Jenna couldn’t put herself in those shoes. The unimaginable cruelty of losing a child was unbearable—it defied the laws of nature. She knew it did—had—happened, but it felt surreal. Her heart constricted.

  She’d never met Mr. Parker but she’d heard enough stories to know he hadn’t been particularly present in Trey’s life. If she remembered correctly, he’d given Trey that motorcycle in the first place. She hoped Mrs. Parker had consented, for both their sakes.

  When the Reverend finished, he asked if anyone else would like to speak. Trey had been well liked by everyone, judging by the turnout. Jenna was looking around for hands that didn’t go up when she saw Felicity stand. Instinctively, as she watched her daughter walk up the aisle to the podium she grabbed Alex’s hand. This was their first physical contact since she’d left. This wasn’t how she’d imagined it.

  Actually, she hadn’t really pictured it. She supposed she thought he would apologize and that she may eventually forgive him, but hadn’t allowed herself to imagine it in any detail, not trusting herself to stay strong. Alex locked eyes with her and squeezed her hand. They looked on, worried and awed by their daughter’s confidence, helpless.

  “Trey was my best friend. He was the most amazing person I’ve ever known. He could always make me laugh … ” she sniffed, “no matter my mood. He was fun. He always thought of the most random, greatest things to do.” She tried to steady her shaking hands. She smoothed the crumpled speech on the podium and gasped for breath. “He challenged me and listened to me and … loved me.” Felicity smiled into the distance, breaking Jenna’s heart. She wanted to jump up to comfort her, but Alex held her back, squeezing her shoulders.

  “He inspired me to be a better version of myself, leading by example. He would have done anything for his friends without asking anything in return. He was the least judgmental person I’ve ever met. I will miss his generosity of spirit and sweet, laid-back nature. He was the kind of guy every girl wishes she had in her life. There was no one better. I am grateful to have known him.”

  Jenna looked over at Alex, who dabbed a tear from the corner of his eye. She didn’t bother trying to temper the tears streaking her cheeks. She looked on helplessly while Felicity choked up, opening her mouth like she had more to say. Nothing came out as heaving sobs took over. Jenna moved to get up but Alex kept his arm around her in a firm embrace. Felicity stepped down, hugging Mrs. Parker for a long time, their shoulders shuddering quietly.

  Jenna couldn’t wrap her head around the whole event. She watched her daughter sit with her boyfriend’s mother, going through the most terrible time of her life, unable to help. And Alex was here with her, holding her. It was all so Dali-esque.

  After the service, they went back to Anya and Shawn’s house. Felicity stayed with Mrs. Parker to attend the smaller gathering of family at her house. Jenna hated not staying by her side, but how could she deny her that closeness to his family? At least it would give her and Alex a chance to talk, out of Felicity’s earshot.

  “Man,” Alex said, slumping into the overstuffed armchair in the living room, throwing his feet up on the ottoman. Jenna took the couch next to him, tucking her legs beneath her, head leaned back against the padding.

  “You know the worst part?” Alex said.

  “Hmm?”

  “All I could think was, ‘I’m so glad it wasn’t Felicity.’ Isn’t that awful?”

  “It is. But it’s impossible not to put yourself in Mrs. Parker’s shoes. I can’t imagine … ”

  They settled into silence, lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Jenna delved into the unavoidable.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked, emphasizing “we.”

  “You know what I want.”

  “We can’t just go back to how it was,” she said.

  “Can’t we just say, we screwed it up but let’s start over?” He leaned forward, taking her hands in his.

  “Hang on. What do you mean, ‘we’?” She tilted her head to one side, eyes wide.

  “Just … I mean, come on. Don’t I deserve the benefit of the doubt? Yes, I screwed up in high school and I can understand that finding out when you did was hard. I get that.” He said, holding his hands up in a “hear me out” gesture. “But I’ve always been faithful. I have always loved and supported you.”

  “You supported my supporting you. My staying home to raise our daughter. You didn’t support my return to modeling. Or encourage me to have any dreams at all. That’s great you didn’t cheat on me … after we were married. That’s my silver lining?” Jenna stood, hands shaking with rage.

  “You never had dreams for me to support. That’s not my fault! And you hated modeling; you told me how superficial it was and how bitchy they were. I’m sorry that I thought you were happy. You didn’t tell me, so how the fuck was I supposed to know?” Alex stood, facing Jenna, chest heaving.

  “I shouldn’t have to tell you,” she said, crossing her arms.

  “Like you didn’t tell me you were going off to Tahoe with Zach,” he said, not quite under his breath.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. You didn’t waste any time finding a guy to fawn over you. Did you sleep with him?”

  “Wow,” Jenna said, “I can’t believe you have the gall to ask that.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “Here’s an answer? Go fuck yourself!” she spat, storming out of the room.

  Chapter 54

  Sitting in front of the computer, Jenna stared at the screen, replaying the fight with Alex in her head. Their issues were so much deeper than she’d realized. She couldn’t
come up with a solution. And if they couldn’t reconcile, was she ready to divorce him?

  Her long practiced habit of procrastination kicked in, forcing her hand to click on unopened emails. It can’t hurt.

  Junk. Junk. Junk. No, I don’t need my massive penis to claim my million dollars … Delete. Oh! Here’s one from Noelle. Open.

  From: Noelle Enfin

  To: Jenna Jax-Anders

  Subject: Photos???

  Dear Jenna,

  Zach told me you left due to a family emergency. I hope everything is okay and that you are well. I wanted to remind you about your daily photo challenge. I think, given the circumstances, it may be more insightful than a written journal. Life happens. It distracts. Don’t lose sight. Make yourself a priority.

  Ta Ta,

  Noelle

  Jenna sighed. She couldn’t help Felicity, her marriage was over, and she hadn’t even begun to think about what she was going to do with the rest of her life. Her moment of clarity and purpose, so clear a week ago, felt like another lifetime. And being in the next room listening to her daughter sobbing only reminded Jenna how powerless she was.

  The sobbing tore at her heartstrings and she couldn’t sit idly by. She had to get out. She hefted her camera from its padded case and headed out for a walk. The beach this time of morning was quiet, all pastel blues and pinks. She saw glassy waves and soft tweets of seagulls, saving their energy for scavenging later when the crowds came bringing with them a cornucopia of leftovers. Remembering Noelle’s challenge to see things in light and shadow, Jenna looked for subjects with both.

  A seashell, stranded by the low tide, wore white ruffles on one side, dark sand on the other. A strip of wet sand, darkened from the receding water, reflected the cloudless sky. A lifeguard tower stood, abandoned this time of year, its dark windows contrasting with the gleaming white watch deck.

  Click. Click. Adjust aperture. Click. Check preview. Out of focus. Adjust shutter speed. Click. Better. An hour passed, marked by tiny increments of clicking and checking until the sun rose higher, shadows becoming more pronounced, and Jenna’s thoughts tuned in to the moment.

  The world in black and white seemed like it should be clear, but there were always shades of gray. The contrast pulled certain things into focus, and left others muddled together in the background.

  Nearing the house, she noticed Felicity sitting on the bottom step. What is she doing? Jenna trained the lens toward her parents’ staircase. Click.

  When she checked it, her heart broke. The girl in the photo stared vacantly out at the ocean, a tear glistening in the late morning light. Forlorn. That’s the word that came to mind. The girl in the photo couldn’t possibly be her baby girl. The girl in the photo was a woman of the world, a woman who’d experienced love and loss.

  Was it possible that in the time it took Jenna to find her self, her daughter had grown into a young woman? The heart-wrenching curse and greatest joy of being a parent embodied in a single image: watching her child grow up to become a beautiful young woman while her sweet little baby disappeared, relegated to her memory. Cliché though it was, she couldn’t help thinking it went by too fast.

  Chapter 55

  Airika waited for Alex to disappear around the corner toward the green room, before spinning on her heel, cornering Simon.

  “What’s going on?” she demanded.

  “With you and me, love?” Simon said.

  “No, idiot, with Alex,” she could hardly contain her disgust. Short and bald was so not her type. She only slept with him again because he caught her in a moment of weakness.

  After her phone conversation with Jenna, she’d experienced a new feeling: guilt (a first, for her). She didn’t like it. Simon happened to be lurking in the lobby bar after she left Alex’s room (where he rejected her naked emotional plea). Guilt and jealousy overloaded her senses and, if she’d been that kind of girl, she would have cried. Instead, she healed through sex. Again. Ugh! She thought, cursing her vulnerable slip. This is why one-night stands are perfect. No muss, no fuss, no seeing them the next day.

  “Aw, come on, you don’t still want him, do you?”

  “He’s acting weird,” she said, more to herself than him.

  “He’s fine. Back where he belongs: on the road.”

  “I don’t buy it.” She knew something was amiss and that Simon was too stupid to figure it out on his own. Perhaps she could turn his lust to her advantage. At least then it wouldn’t have been a total waste.

  “How ‘bout you ‘n me, nick off to my room? Whaddya say?” he wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” He reached out to ensnare her waist but she stepped away, evading his grasp.

  “Fine. Ten minutes.”

  Luckily, he wasn’t one of those guys whose ego needed to be stroked. In the mating and dating hierarchy, she towered above him, and he was smart enough to be grateful. As well he should be! She wished Alex felt the same. She looked around one more time, hoping to see him.

  Ten minutes later, she lay naked and panting in Simon’s bed. He whistled in the shower, annoying her, and she hated to admit that he was actually a great lay. She’d never realized that the benefit of dating a guy from a lower rung of the dating ladder was the extra effort he made to please her, auditioning for another night’s performance. He didn’t even seem concerned with what she did to him. Narcissism satisfied, she spread out, stretching across the bed like a snow angel in the sheets. Obviously, she wouldn’t let Simon see her so pleased.

  He opened the bathroom door, steam billowing out into the stale air-conditioned room. She pulled the sheet over herself, his naked body reminding her of her own exposure.

  “MmMmmMmmm,” he said, shaking his head. “I love seeing a beautiful creature in my bed.”

  “Lie back down, then,” she said, evoking her huskiest tone. She patted the empty bed next to her, strategically allowing the sheet to slip off her leg. He did as he was told. She straddled him, letting the sheet slip away, revealing her naked form.

  “So,” she said, kissing his neck. “What is it that’s got Alex so … ” she grinded on him. “Worked up?”

  “Mmmm,” he moaned, defenseless. “I dunno. Mmmm, yeah, like that.”

  “He’s been so tense,” she said, massaging his chest, running her hands down his torso to his thighs.

  “Ohhh, yeah … ” he closed his eyes. “He’s just wound up tight. Mmmm … Not yet,” he lifted her under the arms, flipping her onto her back, taking control. She moaned as he ran his tongue across her nipples and down further to her … Ooh!

  Twenty minutes later they lay, for a second time, breathing heavily. He slipped his arm behind her neck and she flung her leg over him. He’s a cuddly little leprechaun, she thought.

  “Was there something you wanted to ask me, love?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You think I’m stupid? I know that wasn’t for nothin’. I’ll pay up,” he said without opening his eyes. She turned on an elbow to face him.

  “What happened? Alex was so angry and then all of a sudden he can’t wait to do as he’s told?”

  “I dunno. Sensitive artist type, I guess,” he folded an arm across his face, shaking his head.

  “Sensitive about what?”

  “He owes the label a film. Jackson Jones isn’t a man to give up … ” Simon’s eyes shot open, horrified by his own stupidity.

  “Are you talking about a porn?” She sat up straight, covering herself again with the sheet.

  “Shit. You ain’t supposed to know who it’s for. But yeah, he wants it to win fucking Oscars. Break down barriers about sex in America or some shit.”

  “Alex doesn’t know, does he?”

  Simon shrugged in answer and leant over to kiss her collarbone. She felt dazed. She laid her head back down on the pillow; her straight hair stuck out at all angles, like a lion’s mane. Her mind swam with possibilities. There were a lot of things celebrities
got used to, including being asked to take their clothes off, but this really crossed a line. Jenna would freak if she found out.

  Airika couldn’t tell if Simon told her to distract her or as a sort of confessional. Alex Anders: Porn Star? Not likely.

  Alex, along with a large percentage of Airika’s clients, was a serial relationship whore. Most artists were insecure, seeking validation at every turn. Being alone did nothing to assuage their feelings of inadequacy—something she couldn’t understand. She preferred self-sufficiency sprinkled with one-night stands. Relationships always disappoint.

  “You know,” Simon said, caressing Airika’s naked shoulder with his forefinger. “I’m starting to fancy you.” He kissed her neck. “Maybe we can do this again?”

  She slid off the bed, scoffing at him, giving him a look to put him in his place. “Not likely.”

  Chapter 56

  Jenna was the first up the next morning. She made coffee and went outside to get the paper. It was a banal ritual to pass the quiet time before confronting the problems she desperately wished were a nightmare from which she’d wake up.

  She checked the mailbox and grabbed the dewy newspaper bag. She saw a package addressed to her and ripped back the plastic, revealing a note from the editor.

  J-

  Great work! Noelle added your photo credit. Here’s the final copy. Good luck in the future. Let’s work together again!

  -Henrietta

  Wow. Jenna stood, transfixed, heart thumping in anticipation. She ripped off the sticky note, revealing the glossy cover beneath. She flicked past pages and pages of advertisements, finally finding the table of contents. There she saw the thumbnail version of her photo. She stared, overwhelmed and elated. It was the single most satisfying moment of her life. She wanted to stay wrapped in the warmth of its embrace forever.

  She ripped through the pages to their spread. Her name! In Vogue magazine! Her photo! Wait a second, she thought. She recognized the framing, the angle, the light hitting the side of the model’s face, gleaming against the bustling fabric, but … something was different. She couldn’t put a finger on it. It was definitely her photo, but not. What happened? She looked through the rest of the layout. Same thing.