Almost Lover

by Steph Campbell

  “Because I know it will. Listen, I told her—”

  I jerk away from him. “So you are leaving.”

  “I already said no, I’m not.”

  I get it, he’s upset, he’s nervous. I’m sure he doesn’t want to lie to me. But he’s full of it.

  “Of course you are. You told my mother everything? That’s the only reason you’d out yourself, why you’d crush our arrangement here. You want the job down south and telling my mom and ruining the plan you and I had given you an easy out.” I shake my head back and forth, feeling so stupid for not realizing this is how things would go down earlier.

  “Jordan, it’s not like that.” But he stares down at the ground, a tortured look on his face.

  “Coward,” I mumble under my breath.

  Enzo grabs onto my arms and pulls me into him. I look around quickly to make sure we’re alone.

  “Enzo, someone will see us,” I say, glancing at the crowds of people milling around.

  “Let them.” His eyes and voice are fierce. “I don’t care anymore. I’m not a coward.”

  “Fine,” I say, pulling away. “You may not be a coward, but you’re a liar. What did you say to my mother during that first meeting? It’s okay to lie if it serves the greater good? So, the greater good was gaining enough experience to land a better job and bail on us—to bail on me!”

  “Jordan, you’re talking crazy. I told your mom because it was the right thing to do.” He looks furious, like I’m the one acting like a jerk.

  “You,” I shake him off. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now. I have work to do.”

  I turn and walk away from him.

  “Jordan!” I hear him call after me.

  I keep walking.

  I have to.

  How do you run out of tissues in a place this big? Don’t we plan to host weddings here? No tissues for the bride’s family? Jesus. I toss the last empty box I come across into the garbage—or near the garbage since my aim is shit through my tears.

  I knew.

  I knew when we were at his parents’ home, while I watched him joke with his brothers in the backyard that he belonged there, with all of them and not up here living a lie. I’m about to wipe my nose on the sleeve of my brand new blazer when I hear my mom clear her throat.

  “Here,” she says, passing me a floral printed handkerchief. “Clean yourself up.”

  “I don’t know what Enzo told you, Mom,” I say.

  “The truth, Jordan.”

  “Perfect.”

  “And you’re crying because…?” She sounds annoyed by my sadness. Good ole mom, always the perfect shoulder to lean on after a shit day.

  “I’m crying because—hell, I don’t know, Mother. Because it feels like nothing ever works out. Because I work hard and never see a payoff. Because for once I’d love to be wrong about someone.”

  “And we’re talking about Enzo?” She sniffs. “What exactly were you wrong about?”

  “I thought—I thought he’d want to stay, and I guess that’s not the truth.”

  “Jordan,” Mom says, wrapping her delicate arm around my shoulder. I’m shocked by her gentleness. I lean my head on her. “I’m not saying we can all move forward and act as if nothing has changed, because clearly it has. But we can move forward in some way. I owe you an incredible apology.”

  I dab the handkerchief to my eyes and stare in shock.

  Etta Caletti does not apologize, especially not to me.

  “You don’t owe me anything, Mom. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I lied. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. I should have been honest about his qualifications from the beginning. I should have stuck up for myself more and made my ideas priorities—”

  “You shouldn’t have had to fight so hard to be heard, my girl. I’m sorry for my thick head and not listening. I truly am.” For once, her voice wobbles as much as mine.

  “And what do we do now?” I ask miserably.

  “Did you see it out there tonight? Everyone was having a fantastic time! We brought in more tonight than we made last season total. That is incredible growth, Jordan. And you did that. You and Enzo. Together.”

  I raise my head and sniffle.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m not going to let him go,” she declares. “I can’t. Jordan, I’m upset that I was tricked, but that doesn’t make me a fool. With the changes you two have made to this place, if things continue this way, I may actually be able to retire someday.”

  Mom looks dreamy eyed at the thought.

  “Wait, so you’re not firing him?” I ask, sitting up straight.

  “No, Jordi.” She clasps my hands into hers.

  “What about me?”

  Mom throws her head back into a laugh I haven’t heard in a long time.

  “Of course not. Your job—any job you want at Golden Leaf is safe, my love,” she says.

  I weigh this for a moment before speaking again.

  “Do you trust me?” I ask.

  “Jordan, of course I do, I just said—”

  “If you trust me, I need you to put me in charge.”

  She pauses, her eyes lined with worry.

  “In charge of what? You already run the show, Enzo said so himself.”

  “I know, but I need to be in charge of everything.”

  “What’s this about, Jordan?”

  “There’s just something important I need to do,” I say. my voice soft.

  Something I don’t want to do. But have to. I have to fix this.

  “Jordan, I think you should take a moment to think through whatever it is you’re about to do.” Mom says it like she can sense my dread. “Some things can’t be undone. Sometimes when you give up on someone, it can take years to find your way back to each other.”

  I run my mom’s words through my head a few times before it hits me.

  “How did you know?” I ask.

  “How did I know what, Jordi? Enzo told me the truth, I already said that. Pretty stand-up of him, if you ask me. Brave, albeit a little stupid.”

  “No, how’d you know about the interview?”

  My mom pulls in her bottom lip. “I have my ways, Jordan. The information was presented to me.”

  “We didn’t tell anyone where we were going. Not a soul—”

  Except my dad.

  “Dad told you.” I say.

  “He mentioned it,” Mom says. “He was just concerned.”

  I shake my head. “No he wasn’t. He was trying to score points with you.” And the only reason he’d want to do that… “You two are back together.”

  It all comes slamming into place. How every single thing in my life has been one big act. One massive lie.

  The Golden Leaf masquerade.

  My relationship with Enzo.

  My father’s new marriage.

  My mother’s own commitment to taking the moral high road.

  No wonder she isn’t all that upset about Enzo and I lying, since she’s been lying, too. When she’d slip out the last couple of months to say she was going to the spa and stay away—I was too wrapped up in work and Enzo to pay much attention or really, even care. But she must have been going to see Dad all along.

  It’s every childhood dream I’d hoped for come true—my parents back in love. And even though I don’t particularly like Jennifer, I can’t help feel conflicted about who the bad guy is in that love triangle.

  “I don’t understand. How long has this been going on?”

  “Jordan, I want to be clear. You didn’t see fit to fill me in about who you were seeing, and I think you should show me the same respect,” she says with a stubborn tilt of her head.

  “Except, he’s my father. Mom, he just got married—”

  No wonder Dad’s fresh start—his new marriage—didn’t work out. He was lying to himself about who he was—he was lying to himself about who he loved. Lies. So many.

  “Don’t make me out to be a villain, Jordan. I’m still your moth
er.”

  I don’t want to, but I can’t help but think of Jennifer, and feeling damn sorry for her. She’s young, she did something impulsive by marrying my father. But I bet she’s a stupid, hopeless romantic like me and thought that no matter what, love would conquer all. Now everything she put on the line—it was all for nothing.

  Everything she hoped for is over.

  I’m not going to sit around and let the same thing happen to me.

  All of the lies in my life are toxic.

  “I have to go and find Enzo,” I say.

  “Jordan—” my mom’s warning tone is back, but it’s pointless.

  I’ve made up my mind.

  Taking down tents is much easier than putting them up, I’ve discovered, even if I have to fight the urge to kick the crap out of the metal poles to disassemble them rather than doing it the right way.

  She wouldn’t even look at me the entire night. I’ll be honest, I don’t really understand why telling her mom the truth was so bad.

  I don’t know if Jordan is still mine.

  I don’t even know if I still have a job.

  I take a long pull from my bottle of beer, finally having tracked down a decent brew in this town full of grapes.

  “I guess you don’t want any of this?” Jordan says. I spin toward her voice and drop the metal pole I’m holding to the ground.

  Jordan is holding up a reserve bottle, the same vintage we drank that night under the stars. I set my beer down on a flat-surfaced rock and reach for the bottle from her.

  “If you want me to open it, I’m happy to share a drink with you, Jordan.” I want her to look at me, but, instead, she’s looking everywhere but my eyes. “Event went well tonight. The head of the company stopped to tell me he’d love to book their next function here as well. Is that what we’re celebrating?”

  I’m cautious. Wanting answers, but knowing better than to push or dig too much until Jordan is ready.

  “We’re not. Celebrating, I mean.”

  “Oh.” What else can I say? I feel like all I can do right now is follow her lead.

  “I see you’ve ditched the suit,” she says, motioning to the jeans and plain white t-shirt that have replaced the suit and tie I wore to the gala.

  “Wasn’t really conducive to dismantling tents,” I say with a shrug. “Is that alright?”

  “It’s fine,” she says. Her voice it tight and controlled. I fucking hate it. I want her to throw her head back in laughter like she did yesterday. I want to kiss the gentle pout of her mouth.

  “You really looked beautiful tonight,” I say. She’s still wearing the black dress and heels she wore to the event, but her hair is down and messy instead of pinned up in some intricate bun-thing. “You’d look even more gorgeous without all those dried tears.”

  I take a few steps closer to her. “What’s going on, Jordan. What can I do to fix this?”

  She swipes the back of her hand across her cheeks. “I don’t’ know what you’re talking about. I’m fine, there’s nothing to fix.”

  “Have you talked to your mother?” I ask.

  “I did,” she nods curtly.

  “So, what’s the plan?”

  She takes a sip directly from the bottle. Just like she did the first night I met her. Only this time, it’s less endearing. I want to tell her to slow down a little, but I feel like me telling her what to do is the last thing she needs.

  “I found out today that my parents are seeing each other. Or sleeping together. Or, I don’t know what the hell they’re doing. But they’re back together. I think.”

  “What?” I move toward her. “Jesus, no wonder you’re so worked up.”

  “Among other things.”

  I run my hand through my hair. “So what does that mean for Jennifer and your dad?”

  “She’s divorcing him. Or, they’re divorcing each other. She’ll probably make off with all of his money, and maybe she deserves it. They weren’t married long, but my dad pretty well ruined her for marrying for love, so I guess she deserves something for that, right?

  I shrug. “I don’t know, Jordan. Maybe they’ll work it out.”

  “I don’t think so. I think to work things out, both of you have to want to. I don’t think my dad does. Maybe he belongs with my mom. I always hoped that. Or maybe they’re both just selfish.”

  She takes another drink.

  “Easy, doll,” I say this time. “You don’t want to wake up with a killer hangover on top of everything else.”

  “You know what I want? I just want things to make sense. And nothing ever does.” She bites her lip, not because she’s turned on, but because she’s trying to stop more tears.

  “What do you mean?”

  “My parents—why did they have to put each other through all of that hell, to spend years apart, to take other people down with them, just to end up like this now? What are they supposed to do now?” She hangs her head, defeated.

  “I don’t know, I guess you could look at it as romantic,” I say, not really sure if that’s the right thing, or completely the wrong thing to say.

  Jordan shakes her head, so I’m gonna go with wrong.

  “I guess…I guess I just don’t understand you at all, Enzo.”

  I feel like she punches me in the jaw.

  “What’s there to get? I’m here because I want to be. I told the truth because I want an actual fresh start, Jordan. Not one that’s based on a lie.”

  “What do you want to be, Enzo? The manager? Or the marketing guru? Or the guy who does the tents?”

  “What does any of that matter? I just want to be the guy who gets you. Every time. That’s it.”

  Jordan presses her hands together like she’s in the middle of fervent prayer, but I know her, and I know she’s just overthinking things. Like always. She’s talking herself out of this. Out of us.

  “More than anything, I want us to make sense. And, let’s be honest, we never have.”

  She touches her fingertips to her lips, her eyes closed.

  For one stupid, fleeting second I feel like I’ve got a shot at fixing this. That I can reset the

  clock. That I won’t end up thirty years from now explaining to my grandkids how I let the love of my life walk away. I hate that I’m good at the things I don’t give a shit about, but I’m terrible at the things I care the most about. I hate that I’m terrible at us. That I have no idea what the right thing is to say to make her realize that what she’s saying—what she’s decided out of anger and fear isn’t the right choice. But I’m no good at this.

  “Jordan—” I start.

  “No. Let me talk, Enzo.” she says. “Let me talk because we both know that there’s nothing you can say to change what is, so just…please don’t try. You can’t pull me into the wine cellar and kiss away all of the things that stand in our way, no matter how much we both want that to be true.”

  I guess this is irony. I left my hometown with a broken heart, only to show up here and break one. Nice job, Enzo.

  “Maybe.” Her lip gives the tiniest quiver, and it takes every ounce of strength I have in me not to grab her and pull her in—pull that lip into my mouth and shut all this down. “Maybe in some alternate universe we could have been something. Maybe in some other time.” She links her fingers together and stares down at them. Then does the most Jordan thing she can, and tries to make a joke. “But there’s no shortage of girls, Enzo, you’ll bounce back.”

  I take one step closer to her. I couldn’t give a shit less about any other girl. I’m terrified that I’m letting the right one slip through my fingers right now and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  “What the hell are you saying, Jordan?”

  “I think…I think I need to walk away. This whole game we played—”

  “Don’t do that,” I say.

  She straightens up her posture and looks up at me.

  “Enzo, I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go from Golden Leaf,” she says. She raises her ch
in, but I see it tremble, giving her away.

  “Please don’t do this.”

  “It’s what’s best for the company, Enzo.” She clears her throat. “That is, and has always been my primary concern.”

  “You’re a liar,” I say. “I’m not leaving, Jordan. Not this time.”

  “I’m not asking you to go, Enzo. I’m telling you. What you and I did—lying the way we did—it’s no way to start a relationship and it’s certainly no way to run a company. We should have respected that. I let the company down—I let myself down.”

  “We can start over, though. I told your mom the truth, we can start again with everything out there—”

  “I think it’s best if we just call this what it is. A sham. We played pretend, and now we need to be grown-ups and do the right thing.”

  “When we made love, was that a game? Was that pretend?”

  She won’t look at me when I ask. Of course not. She knows better. She knows we connected like neither one of us imagined, and that’s why she’s doing this now.

  I watch the tips of her ears turn red. “Of course we’ll compensate you through the month—”

  “I don’t want your money, Jordan.”

  She nods. “If you could just make sure the apartment is clean—”

  I rush into her and pull her mouth to mine. She doesn’t resist like I expect her to. She doesn’t push me away. She gives into it. Into us. She lets her lips form to mine, slowly, sadly—like she’s saying goodbye—like she’s grieving. When she finally pulls away from me, her face is damp with tears.

  “Why are you doing this, baby?” I ask.

  “I’m doing what needs to be done. For once. I was so damn selfish—”

  “You weren’t, we’re fine.”

  “No,” she says. “You left everything looking to start fresh. You’d been lied to, you’d been hurt. I stole that chance for a fresh start from you. I forced you into this lie—”

  “You didn’t force me into anything, doll. I wanted to be with you—”

  “All of this, though—” she motions around the grounds. “You didn’t sign up for getting wrapped up in a life-altering lie.”

  “I knew what I was getting into. I’d do it again.”

  “And I can’t let you. You deserved a fresh start. A clean slate. And I intend to give that to you. Better late than never, I guess. I’m sorry, Enzo. I really am.”