The Mixtape

by Cherry, Brittainy

  “I don’t love her anymore,” he confessed.

  Those were the easiest words that’d fallen from Oliver’s mouth since I’d met him. He said it without an ounce of hesitation.

  “Then why are you with her? Why would you stay with someone like that?”

  His thumb brushed against his nose. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  “If she wasn’t here, I’d be alone.”

  “And what’s so wrong with that?”

  He paused for a moment and fumbled with his hands before sliding them into his pockets. “My mind doesn’t do well when it’s alone.”

  I felt that. True, I couldn’t understand the thought completely, but I felt how much he meant it. Oliver Smith feared being alone, because that was the time when his mind spiraled the most. My mind used to do that when Reese was a baby, and I’d be awake late at night while she was sleeping. I’d fall apart and lose myself, but truthfully, it was in those moments when I learned to find myself.

  “I’d rather sit in my loneliness than be lonely with someone who doesn’t care for me at all. Are you truly that afraid to sit with your own thoughts?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck as he told me his deepest truth. “You don’t know how dark my thoughts can get.”

  The Monday after Beetgate, I showed up to Oliver’s house and walked in on him and Cam in a shouting match. Well, Cam was shouting. Oliver was standing calmly in the living room with his arms crossed.

  “I swear to you, Oliver, if you don’t get rid of that wannabe chef today, so help me I will make your life a living hell!” she hollered, apparently not noticing that I’d walked in. I stood frozen in place, unsure of what my next steps should’ve been.

  Did I turn around and tiptoe out like I hadn’t been seen until the fighting came to a halt?

  Before I could even think about leaving, Oliver glanced up and spotted me. I stood as still as possible, as if I were going to become invisible.

  “Good morning, Emery,” Oliver said, forcing Cam to whip around and look my way. The hatred that flashed in her eyes was almost intense enough to cut me. Still, I didn’t move. I felt as if any form of movement would’ve given Cam a reason to snap at me.

  Instead, she looked back to Oliver, who hadn’t moved, either. She stepped closer to him, took her finger, and poked him hard against the chest. “Do it, or else.”

  Oliver didn’t do anything. He brushed his palm against his stubbled chin and looked back toward me. His eyes seemed apologetic, and for a moment I didn’t know why. I didn’t know if I’d just walked into a conversation that was going to lead to my termination.

  Oliver cleared his throat and kept his caramel eyes locked with mine. “Emery. Can you . . .” He blinked his eyes closed and took a short breath before looking back at me. “Make me an omelet?”

  The pressure in my chest slightly faded as those words escaped his lips.

  “Yes. Of course,” I mumbled, nothing more than a whisper.

  “Unbelievable,” Cam spit out, shaking her head. “When you get a pair of balls, call me, Oliver. I’m taking a girls’ trip.”

  With that, she grabbed her purse from the couch, then marched off in my direction and shoved past me, with her shoulder hitting mine. I stumbled a bit but didn’t fall.

  Oliver’s eyes were still on mine. We both opened our mouths to speak but paused when we noticed the other about to talk.

  I nervously laughed. “You go ahead.”

  “I’m sorry . . . for her.”

  “Like I said, you don’t have to apologize for her. I do apologize to you, though, if I caused any trouble. I really don’t want to come between you two. I’m just the chef, after all.”

  He narrowed his eyes and looked confused by my words, but he didn’t say anything. He nodded once and spoke again. “I’ll be in my studio. You can bring my breakfast in there.”

  “Will do. Any special toppings requests?”

  His lips slightly turned up into an almost smile. “Whatever you make is good enough for me.”

  My heart did that skipping thing that it had done every now and again around Oliver. He was such a strange individual. He had a way of not saying much but saying so much at the very same time.

  “Okay.” I shifted in my shoes as Oliver began to walk away, and without thought I called out to him, finally asking him the question that had been running across my mind each and every day since I’d begun working for him.

  He raised an eyebrow, waiting for my question, so I took a deep breath and asked, “Are you okay?”

  His mouth twitched slightly before he gave me his answer. “No.”

  14

  OLIVER

  I felt as if I’d been spending the past few months existing but somehow not being fully alive. Most of the time, the only thing that I’d been able to focus on was my music, because it was my safety net. Without it, I would’ve probably drowned.

  Yet now, after seeing what had gone down between Emery and Cam, I couldn’t help but wonder how much I’d been blind to over the past few months. I felt as if I’d been blind to Cam’s actions over the past few years.

  Which was exactly why I needed Kelly to tell me the truth. We sat in my office for our weekly meeting to go over sponsorship deals that I had coming up, but my mind couldn’t truly focus on anything she was talking about.

  I sat back in my chair and grimaced. “Is she rude to you?”

  Kelly arched an eyebrow. “What?”

  “Cam. Does she talk down to you? Is she rude?” The hesitation in Kelly and the flash of concern that flooded her eyes answered my question. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  “I figured it wasn’t my place. She was around before you hired me. I didn’t see it as my right to speak about your relationship when I was your assistant.”

  That made sense, but Kelly had since become more than my assistant. She was like family in my mind. The fact that Cam would treat family that way made my skin crawl.

  “You know you’re like a sister to me, Kelly,” I said.

  She frowned. “At one point, I thought that would actually be true . . . ,” she muttered, speaking of her relationship with Alex. Shit. I was making things worse. She shook off her emotions, the ones she hardly ever displayed around me, and smiled. “It’s okay. Really, Oliver. If you are happy with Cam—”

  “I’m not,” I confessed. I couldn’t think of the last time I’d been happy with her. Even before Alex passed away, I felt as if Cam and I were becoming more and more like strangers. I was holding on to a Cam Jones who no longer existed.

  “Then why are you still with her?”

  That was the same question that I’d been asking myself over and over the past few days.

  I shrugged. “Familiarity.”

  “Is she truly familiar to you, Oliver? Or are you just hoping the old version of her comes back one day?”

  I knitted my brows as I clasped my hands together. “I feel as if I’ve lost so much this year already.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m not here to tell you what to do. But if you’re not happy with Cam, that’s something worth exploring. You don’t have to stay where things are familiar all the time. Sometimes the best way to move forward is to leave some things behind.”

  I nodded in agreement and thanked her for giving me her true opinion. We went back to discussing business, and in the conversation, Emery came up as Kelly was critiquing all the people I currently employed.

  “And what are we thinking of Emery?” she asked. “I mean, I personally love her, so if you fired her, I’d be shattered. But what do you think? Do you think she’s working out?”

  “Yes,” I replied, sitting back in my chair. “She’s good.”

  “What do you want to talk about? I have a nail appointment in an hour, so let’s make it quick,” Cam said later that afternoon as we sat in the living room. The more I studied her, the more I realized she hardly ever looked at me. She was always attach
ed to her phone, or she was staring toward me and ordering me around.

  “Do I make you happy?” I flat-out asked.

  She raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” I figured it was an easy enough question, yet Cam seemed baffled by it. “What do you mean do you make me happy?”

  “I mean exactly that. Are you happy with me?”

  “We’re fine. Once you get your new music out, I’m sure we can take our relationship back into the public eye, which could benefit both of us. Plus, if we did a song together, the media would go wild.”

  How did I receive that answer to my simple question? It had nothing to do with our relationship at all. I stared her way and didn’t know the person who was in front of me anymore. Even the small pieces of the old Cam that I used to witness seemed to be nothing more than a facade.

  “Cam,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Do I make you happy?”

  “Why do you keep asking that?”

  “Because you’re not replying. Hell, we don’t operate like a couple.”

  “That’s because you’re dealing with whatever it is you’re dealing with—”

  “Which brings me to my next topic . . . you never ask how I am. Which, I’m not blaming you, because I never ask you, either. We don’t talk, Cam. Hell, we don’t even sleep with one another. I don’t have any idea what we’re getting out of this relationship. If it can even be called that.”

  “What are you talking about, Oliver? We’re building an empire together. We are the next Beyoncé and Jay-Z. If you would just—”

  “I don’t want that.”

  “Yes, I know, but I do. So, we are going to make it happen because I know how it can help us both. My career”—she paused, evidently noting her words—“our careers will take off after this, due to this relationship.”

  “I can’t do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “This. You, me. I can’t continue in this relationship anymore, Cam. We’re not happy. We’re not in love.”

  Her eyes flashed with emotions, and for a split second I saw her. I saw the girl I once knew living behind those sad eyes. Yet before I could grasp hold of that girl, rage flashed before her.

  The new Cam was back in full force. “You are really going to break up with me? Because we aren’t in love?”

  Uh . . . yes?

  “I think that’s a good enough reason to, yes,” I agreed.

  “What’s love got to do with it?” she hammered. “I mean, honestly, Oliver. This is Hollywood! No one’s in love!”

  I felt sorry for her. I’d seen it happen to so many celebrities in the industry. Fame overtook them and swallowed their souls whole. I never thought it would happen to Cam, though. Years back, she used to have stars in her eyes. She used to daydream about performing for a crowd of one hundred people. She used to care about the music, about the art. Now, all she cared for was money and fame.

  “I’m sorry, Cam. I truly hope you find what you’re looking for, but it can’t be with me.”

  She parted her lips in shock and then shook her head. Once the surprise had faded from her stare, a hardness found her as she released a weighted sigh. “You’ll pay for it, Oliver. Just watch. You’ll regret this decision. Mark my words.”

  She turned and walked out of the room, and with her went the deadweight that I hadn’t known our relationship had been pressing against my shoulders.

  15

  EMERY

  Cam hadn’t been back since she stormed out on Monday. I figured she was keeping her space until I left after my shifts. Oliver hadn’t brought her up, but that wasn’t shocking. Oliver didn’t bring anything up to me. He simply thanked me for my meals, then put his headphones back on and went back to his work. Sometimes I’d ask if he was okay, and he’d reply no. Other times, I’d follow up and ask if there was anything I could do to make him better, and he’d say no again. That was the depth of our conversations.

  I found myself thinking about him more often than not. When I closed my eyes, I’d see his sad stare. When I opened my eyes, I’d see his cracked frowns.

  “Knock, knock,” I said as I headed into Oliver’s studio.

  He looked up from the notebook in his hands. “Done for the day?”

  “Yes. Dinner is in the fridge. You just have to toss it into the oven for forty-five minutes at four hundred twenty-five degrees.”

  “Thank you, Emery. I do have a request. The Fourth of July is coming up. My parents are coming into town. Kelly will be around, and Tyler will be, too, with his wife and two kids. Perhaps we could have a celebration, if you’re free to cook for it. Of course, you could take part in the festivities, and Reese is more than welcome. She can use the pool, and I’ll make sure to have some kind of entertainment for her and Tyler’s two kids, who are around her age.” His nervous fidgeting returned as he looked away from me. “Of course, if you already have plans—”

  “I don’t. And that sounds so fun. I’ve never done a Fourth of July party. I’m excited to get creative!” I exclaimed, maybe too excitedly. I was going to be on Pinterest looking up different ideas the moment I got home. Plus, I was certain that Reese was going to love the idea of having a party—even with people she didn’t really know, as long as a pool was involved. “Oh my gosh, I can make minidesserts and all kinds of appetizers.” I beamed with excitement.

  I swore for a split second that Oliver smiled too.

  “I’m glad. Thank you, Emery.”

  “Thank you. This is going to be so much fun.” I bit my bottom lip. “Will Cam be in attendance, too? Maybe with her family? Just so I have a headcount.”

  He looked down to his notebook and then back toward me. “I don’t think Cam is going to be around much anymore.”

  “Oh? Did you two . . . did you break up?”

  “Yes, we are no longer seeing one another.”

  “Oh my gosh, Oliver. I’m so sorry. I hope it had nothing to do with me . . .”

  “It had everything to do with you.”

  Guilt hit me at full speed. “I’m so sorry, Oliver. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble for you, and—”

  “Emery. I never said that was a bad thing. It was the choice I should’ve made a long time ago. You just helped make it clearer for me. Besides, you were right. I should learn how to sit in my loneliness for a while.”

  “If you ever get too lonely, you can reach out to me,” I said without thought. His brows knitted at the comment, and I wanted to smack myself for saying such a thing. He didn’t reply, so I took that as a “Hell no.” I cleared my throat, feeling like a frog was crammed in there. “Well, you have a good night.” I turned to leave the room.

  “Emery, wait.”

  “Yes?”

  “Earlier you said something that hasn’t sat well with me.”

  “Oh?”

  “You said you were just the chef.” A softness flooded Oliver’s eyes. “You’re so much more than just the chef.”

  Those butterflies that Oliver delivered me every now and again? They came back intensely. My mouth parted, but I couldn’t form any words.

  “Good night, Emery.”

  “Good night, Oliver.”

  Later that night, I received a text message from an unknown number.

  Unknown: What kinds of things is Reese into?

  The mention of Reese’s name made me sit up straighter on my couch.

  Emery: Who is this?

  Unknown: Sorry. This is Oliver. Kelly gave me your number.

  The sigh of relief that hit me was strong.

  Emery: Oh, sorry. I’m guessing for the party? She’s really into any female superhero or Disney princess.

  Oliver: Sounds good. Thank you.

  Emery: Thank you!

  I went back to my notebook, where I was drafting up a menu for the Fourth of July. To my surprise, my phone dinged again.

  Oliver: How are you?

  I was surprised by him reaching out to me again, and not only reaching out, but asking how I had been. Most of our conversations never
led to much, and I couldn’t think of the last time he’d asked me how I’d been. Especially at nine at night.

  Emery: I’m good. How are you?

  He didn’t reply for quite some time. I figured that was what it was like living in Oliver’s brain—a lot of overthinking going on.

  Oliver: Did you come up with menu ideas for the party?

  Emery: Are you avoiding my question?

  Oliver: Yes.

  Emery: Why?

  . . .

  . . .

  . . .

  Oliver: Because I don’t want to bring down the conversation.

  Emery: It’s your first night without Cam, isn’t it?

  Oliver: Yes.

  Emery: And you’re lonely?

  Oliver: You mentioned I could reach out if I got too lonely.

  Instead of texting back, I dialed Oliver’s phone number, hoping he would answer. Knowing him, it was a fifty-fifty chance. I never really knew which way he was going to travel.

  “Hello?” he said, his voice seemingly deeper on the phone than in person.

  There went those butterflies again.

  “Hey, Oliver. I figured it would be easier to call and talk instead of texting back and forth. Are you okay?”

  He cleared his throat. “Why do you ask me that all the time?”

  “Because I want to know.”

  “But the answer’s always the same.”

  “Yes,” I said, nodding as if he could see me. “But someday it won’t be. Someday you’ll be okay.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I just get the feeling that someday you’re going to find it—your happy ending. This is just a temporary thing. Your sadness.”

  “I’ve been sad my whole life, Emery.”

  That fact made my heart crack a little. I wished I could hug him. “Why is that?”

  He paused for a moment, in thought maybe. I could picture him with his stern look on his face. “I think some people are just born sadder than others.”

  I hoped that wasn’t true. I hoped someday, Oliver would find his happiness. Find the place that made him feel free from all the sadness that surrounded him.