She was never really interested in steady boyfriends and was always the one to play the field.
That is until Logan came along.
Oh, I could just kill him.
Now, she’s going to think that there’s no point in ever trusting a man again and go back to her one-night stands.
Not that there's anything particularly wrong with that; she is a free woman in her twenties and if she wants to have sex with half of Manhattan that’s her right.
But I also know that there’s something wonderful about having that one person to turn to when life gets really shitty.
And dating one guy after another doesn’t get you there.
“It’s going to be okay, sweetie,” I say over and over again as she sobs into my shoulder.
But I don’t believe those words anymore than she does.
“I just can’t believe that he would do that to me. Well, let me tell you, he is the first and last guy that ever does this to me.”
“Julie, you are upset right now, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t trust the right man when he comes along.”
“Oh, hell no.” She shakes her head. “I don’t need that kind of pain. I’m not falling for that again.”
“Not everyone is a cheater.”
She finally pulls away and looks directly at me.
“You better check Jackson’s phone.”
“Why?”
“Because… he’s a guy. And not just a guy, he’s loaded. And what would be the point of having all that money if you couldn’t flaunt it to all the hotties out there?”
I don't want to get into this with her now, given that she’s in such a fragile state, but she couldn’t be more wrong. Jackson isn’t like that at all.
A few minutes later, her tears seem to slow down a bit. She wipes her eyes with her palms and looks up at me.
“We can’t stay here anymore.”
Oh, shit.
Chapter 24 - Harley
Changes…
Somehow, it had completely slipped my mind that I have a very serious problem if I can’t stay at Julie’s house.
Parker Huntington is out of jail and even though I have a restraining order against him, that doesn’t mean that he won’t come looking for me.
That’s the whole reason why I was even staying in their apartment with Julie while Logan was away on business.
“I guess it’s my turn to ask you for a favor,” Julie says.
I give her a slight nod, only half listening.
“Oh, c’mon, don’t tell me you want me to beg?”
“What?”
“Fine, fine. Can I move back into our place?”
“Yes, of course! You don’t even have to ask.”
She lets out a sigh of relief.
“It’s not as nice as this one, though,” I say, looking around Logan’s massive two-bedroom. “And it’s not in as nice of an area.”
She laughs. “But it has you there!”
I nod, yeah, for now.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Well, remember why you made me come here?”
“Oh, shit, of course!” She hits herself on her forehead with her palm. “No, you shouldn’t go back there until his court case.”
I shrug. “I think it’s my only choice.”
“What about Jackson? Doesn’t he have that ridiculous mansion? I bet that if you moved in there, he wouldn’t even notice it.”
I laugh. She is more right than she can possibly know.
“I don’t know if I can ask him. He’s going through a lot of his own shit right now.”
She nods. “Well, I’m happy for you to stay with me. I need some girl time.”
“Me, too.”
Logan doesn’t get back for a few more days, but Julie doesn’t want to stay there anymore.
We decide to move back the following day. Julie packs a few things and I pack my bag from Montana.
Since she moved all of her stuff over, it will take her a few trips to bring it all back.
Personally, I don’t see why we have to rush back to our studio so soon, especially since Logan is still away, but I don’t argue.
The only reason I’m here in the first place is because Julie extended me an invitation.
“Wow, this place is small!” she says, stepping back into our place. “We have to get ourselves a two bedroom.”
I laugh. “Yeah, right. I can barely afford the rent on this place.”
After unpacking my stuff, I plop on my bed and look at my phone.
Why hasn’t he called?
Or texted?
He was supposed to last night, but he didn’t.
I didn’t message him either, mainly out of spite.
I mean, I know that he’s going through a lot right now, but so am I.
Finally, I decide to take my life into my own hands and promise myself that I will call him if he doesn’t contact me by three.
I call him at noon.
“Oh, hey, what’s up?” His voice sounds detached and somewhere else.
“Just wanted to see how things are going over there.”
“Um…okay. Busy.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, I’m trying to gather all of this paperwork to figure out exactly how much Swanson took from me. You know for the prosecutors.”
“You’ve talked to them already.”
“Of course.”
The conversation doesn’t get any better after that. Most of his answers are terse and one word in length.
After a few moments, I give up and say that I have to go.
But before he hangs up, he does remind me about the winter masquerade ball at Woodward’s in the Hamptons on Friday night.
He asks if I want him to send a stylist again with a selection of outfits and I say yes.
It was nice not going to a store and trying on whatever they have.
Besides, for that event, I will need a very special dress, not one that I can afford to pay for myself.
The stylist arrives at our apartment two days later.
The place would seem a lot bigger without four people crammed into it, but Julie refuses to leave.
Fashion is something of a passion of hers.
Her eyes tint over with glee at the sight of just regular dresses at Nordstrom, let alone designer gowns like the ones that Mo arrives with.
Mo is a big woman with long eyelashes and a shaved head.
Her assistant is a mousy looking man with equally long eyelashes and perfectly groomed eyebrows.
They make themselves comfortable immediately and start laying out the outfits.
I try on the first dress, an A-line scoop neck organza ivory gown, which makes feel like a movie star.
I can’t help but twirl around, looking at myself in Mo’s large floor-length mirror that her assistant lugged up all those flights.
The second one is equally stunning.
It’s a long-sleeve silk twill baroque-print midi dress.
But it’s a bit unconventional and, as much as I want to wear long sleeves since I’m almost always cold, I decide to pass on it.
Two more dresses down and the first one I tried on is the one to beat.
“I think I’m just going to go with the first one. It feels like it’s the best fit for this event.”
Once I say that, Mo doesn’t push anymore dresses on me.
Instead, she opens her large suitcase and starts to pull out boxes of shoes.
I take a deep breath, sit down on the edge of my bed, and start trying on shoes.
All are exquisitely beautiful and impractical.
Mo shows me the ones that go well with the dress I chose and out of those I go with the one that’s the most comfortable.
“Now, you have to promise me that you’re going to practice walking in those heels before the big day. At least an hour or two a day,” Mo says.
“An hour a day!” I gasp.
“Harley isn’t much for heels.”
Now, i
t’s Mo’s turn to gasp. “Heels make the woman.”
“Well, what does that say about me then?” I shrug.
“Oh, honey.” Mo wraps her arms around me and gives me a big bear of a hug.
Chapter 25 - Harley
When we go out to dinner…
The following night, Julie and I decide to go to our favorite restaurant.
It’s a great little Indian place, right around the corner.
We arrive around seven and are surprised to find the place almost entirely to ourselves.
While this is usually a sign that something’s wrong with the place, on this particular day we know we just hit the jackpot.
This place is never empty.
Just as we order our drinks and some appetizers, the flood gates open and people start to pile in.
“So, what’s going on with you and Jackson?”
This is the first time she’s asked me about him since her breakup and I appreciate her taking an interest.
The truth is that nothing really is going on and that’s what’s making me so antsy.
We had this beautiful trip to Montana, in terms of how close it brought us, not what happened there with my family, and then nothing.
“He’s sort of shutting me out. We’ve barely spoken two words to each other since the news about Swanson came out.”
“Well, I’m sure that he’s just busy dealing with all of that.”
“He is. I know he is. We exchange texts a few times a day and talk on the phone a bit, but he’s not really there, you know? He keeps saying that he wants to see me, but he can’t right now.”
“Why?” Julie asks, taking a bite of her naan.
“He is taking a lot of meetings with lawyers and prosecutors and they’re all going over the paperwork that he received from Swanson over the years.”
As I tell Julie what has been going on, I hear myself from the outside looking in and I realize how selfish and self-centered I sound.
Here he is trying to deal with losing his entire fortune while I’m complaining about him not giving me enough attention.
“So, are you still working for him?”
“Sort of. I mean, yes, I am. But I’m doing something different than I did that one day. I’m not his personal assistant anymore.”
“Oh, yeah?” Julie raises her eyebrows with a look of glee in her eyes. “What do you mean, something different? Like sex different?”
I laugh and shake my head. “No. That stuff I do for free and I’m keeping it that way.”
“Okay, what?”
“He knows that I really like to write so he’s paying me to do that. To work on my novel.”
“Wow, that’s generous.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Well, you better take your sweet time writing that sucker.”
“I’m actually about halfway done,” I say, looking away. Julie shakes her head.
“How do you live in this world, Harley? I mean, really?”
I shrug. “I just got so excited by the prospect of publishing it myself and him supporting my writing, and not just financially, that I couldn’t stop writing. It’s all I think about now.”
After we finish our dinner, we decide to walk home.
I haven’t taken a walk in I have no idea how long and it feels good to just be outside in the fresh air for once.
My boots make a loud clicking sound as they collide with the pavement.
Julie walks to a completely different rhythm so at first I don’t hear those other footsteps behind us.
Until we turn onto a quieter street and they are impossible to not hear.
“What is that?” I ask.
Julie shrugs and I look behind me.
Somewhere in the distance the figure of a man disappears into one of the buildings.
It’s not him.
It’s not him, I say to myself, trying to convince myself that it’s not Parker Huntington.
He wouldn’t violate his restraining order to follow me here.
But of course he has in the past, and I know that he’s fully capable of doing just about anything.
I take Julie by the arm and speed up our pace.
But the footsteps persist.
They stay behind, and don’t get too close, but he keeps following us.
“Go away!” I say when I’ve finally had enough of the fear. “Don’t follow me!”
I stop for a moment and wait, but then Julie pulls me away and into our building.
She makes sure that the door locks behind her before turning to face me.
“Are you crazy? Why are you baiting him?”
“Because I’ve had enough of that asshole. I’ve had enough of being scared and of worrying about seeing him again.”
“I know you have, but he tried to actually hurt you before. You need to be more careful.”
I don’t know if it’s just the couple of drinks of liquid courage that are coursing through my veins or if I am suddenly a lot less afraid of him.
Either way, I’m done putting up with his shit.
Chapter 26 - Harley
When he’s here…
The mask is white with long feathers around the eyes and sparkles and glitter everywhere else.
When I hold it in my hand it looks both exotic and familiar. It feels light in my hands, and when I put it on my face, it gives my appearance a mysterious stranger sort of feel.
Rather than something straight out of a garden variety Halloween store, this mask looks like it’s from a Venetian specialty store.
Jackson greets me at my door.
He is dressed in a tuxedo with a matte tie the color of charcoal.
The total absence of color brings out the blue in his irises, only emphasized by the dark mane that falls to one side in large, luxurious waves.
The exquisite tux is perfectly tailored, hugging his wide shoulders and narrowing at his waist.
After running his gaze up and down my body, his eyes bore into mine.
His lips fall slightly apart before he utters a word.
“You…take my breath away.”
I blush and take a step closer to him.
Raising my chin up, I press my lips onto his.
“Hi, I’m her roommate Julie.”
She’s standing with her arm extended, waiting to shake his hand.
“I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jackson says.
“Pleasure is all mine. You want to come in?”
My eyes get big like two saucers as I glare at Julie.
Why would she invite him in?
Our place is…so small and in such disarray.
“Unfortunately, we don’t have much time,” Jackson says. I let out a sigh of relief.
“But I’d love a quick tour.”
My whole body recoils and clenches up.
As Julie welcomes him inside, I shake my head at her and mouth, what are you doing?
Julie smiles innocently back at me, mouthing back, what?
“That’s my side over there. Sorry about the mess, but I’m just moving back in.” Julie points to her bed covered in open suitcases and piles of clothes. Because Logan’s apartment was already furnished she’d left all of her furniture including her bed, desk, bookcase, and chair.
My side is in a lot better shape.
Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always liked a neat bed, so I rarely go a day without making it.
Luckily, the process of actually ‘making’ it isn’t very complicated.
Without bothering with straightening out the sheet underneath, I just pull my plush gray comforter all the way to the headboard, stack the pillows vertically, placing the decorative one in front of the pillow-cased one and voila.
The comforter is thick enough to make the bed look well made without actually going through the process of doing it.
My little white desk is likewise pretty clear of papers and other debris entirely out of necessity.
It has only enough square spac
e across to fit my laptop, a cup of tea, and a candle and if it were cluttered up with anything else, then I wouldn’t have any space to work.
I don’t have many papers, after my massive post-college purge, and I keep all of my journals and handwritten stuff in decorative boxes in my closet.
“She’s kind of a neat freak,” Julie points out.
“No, I’m not.”
“Not when it comes to actually cleaning the toilet, but you do like things organized.”
My mortification is now complete.
Instead of descending down the stairs like the process I felt like only a few moments ago when I first saw him at the door in his tuxedo, we are now discussing my ability or inability to clean a toilet.
I think I’m actually going to kill her.
“It’s the only way I can ever find anything. I don’t know how you find anything in there.” I point to her bed.
“Eh, if I can’t, I’ll just go buy it,” Julie jokes, tossing her hair over her shoulder in a dramatic way.
But she’s only partly joking.
I’ve seen her do this on a number of occasions.
“Did she tell you about her minimalism kick?”
Jackson smiles, clearly amused.
“We have to go.” I take him by the arm and try to push him toward the door.
But he doesn’t budge.
“No, I want to hear.”
Liking the attention, Julie continues, “Yeah, she read these books about how getting rid of stuff that you don’t absolutely love will make you happy and then she went on this crusade to rid herself of practically everything.”
“Not everything. Just stuff that I didn’t care for.”
“Is that why you only have three pairs of shoes in your closet?”
“I didn’t like the other ones.”
“What kind of self-respecting woman has only three pairs of shoes in her closet?” Julie asks Jackson.
He laughs, shrugging his shoulders.
“Okay, now, we really have to go.”
Luckily, this time Jackson gives in and lets me usher him out of the door.
“It has been an absolute pleasure, Julie,” he says, shaking her hand again.
Tangled up in Pain Page 9
