by M. Malone
“So, she loves me, she just doesn’t want me with her? What am I supposed to do with that?”
“What you’re supposed to do is make her come to you. And I know just how to make that happen. She thinks you’re keeping her as some dirty little secret, right? Like you’re ashamed of her? Well, it’s a good thing you have access to a billboard. Call the art department.” Jason makes an impatient gesture with his hands when I don’t move fast enough.
“The art department?” I pull out my cell phone and dial my marketing director automatically. “What am I supposed to tell them?”
Jason smiles and rubs his hands together. “Tell them you need a picture of the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. As big as they can make it.”
A slow smile crosses my face as I realize what he’s suggesting. “Make her come to me, huh? Well, it’s worth a try. If this works, I’ll consider us even.”
23
* * *
As usual morning comes too early and I’m caught between wanting to pretend I’m still asleep and getting up so I can get some housework done for my mom. Decisions. Decisions. I really want to help my mom out around the house while I’m here but this bed feels so good.
I convince myself that five more minutes won’t hurt. Thirty seconds later I concede defeat. My mind is already awake.
When I open my eyes, I smile at the image of my favorite band when I was in high school. “Good morning, Harry. How’s it hanging, Niall?”
The poster tacked on my ceiling has been there for almost ten years now. At this point it’s a classic. Maybe I should have it framed.
These guys are the only reason I’ve been getting any sleep at all since I came back home. Being in my old room gave me a sense of safety that I definitely needed. There’s no chance any reporters or paparazzi will show up in Gracewell. People here might be judgmental but when the chips are down, we don’t like outsiders messing with one of our own.
Any reporters that step foot in the city limits are at risk of getting a round of buckshot in the ass. Or at least that’s what Mr. Hillcrest who lives right outside the city limits always threatens when anyone bothers him.
I check the alarm clock next to the bed. It’s still early. My mom won’t be awake for hours. She’s still working the night shift so I only see her in the afternoon. When I first arrived, she wanted to request time off so she could stay home with me but I made her promise not to. There’s no reason she should burn through her vacation time when really, the decisions I need to make, I have to make alone.
After a quick shower, I walk down the hall to the kitchen. The coffee pot has already come on automatically so I pour a cup. I’m in the mood for chocolate chip pancakes so I pull out the ingredients as quietly as possible and start mixing.
It’s so weird to have time to make a leisurely breakfast but I guess I should enjoy it while it lasts.
James was very kind when I asked for a leave of absence. When I first approached him I was sure that he would just suggest that I don’t come back at all. But surprisingly, he was very understanding and seemed personally offended that the person who sold the picture must be a Mirage employee. He assured me they’re doing everything they can to help Andre’s investigator nail down the culprit but I kind of tuned out at that point.
I’m trying really hard not to think about Andre at all.
I’m in the middle of frying bacon when my mom comes in.
“That smells wonderful.”
“Morning, Mom. I’m sorry if I woke you. I was trying to be quiet.”
“You were. But I was already awake.”
She takes out a bowl of fruit and cuts some for both of us. I plate the pancakes and then put two pieces of bacon on top of each. We sit at the small dinette in the kitchen.
“It’s been so nice to have this time with you, even if I hate the reason why. When do you have to go back?”
“Tomorrow. When everything happened, my boss told me to take the rest of the week off. I thought that was pretty generous.”
“It was. They’re paying you even though you’re not working?”
“Yeah. They’ve been really good to me there. And I’m learning a lot.” Neither of us mentions what else happened last week. “But I’m going to miss you. It’s been nice to be home.”
“Home will always be here, Casey. But hiding out won’t make your problems go away.”
“It was so awful, Mom. All those people online posting hateful things. I just don’t know if I can live like that.”
“The question is can you live without him? Because that’s what’s at stake here. You looked at that man like you were in love. Are you willing to let hateful people who hide behind their keyboards dictate your life?”
“It’s not just about my life. What if he’d asked me to marry him?“
“Did he?” she asks with alarm. “You’re so young, Casey.”
“No. No marriage proposals!” I rush to assure her, not wanting her to think that I’d keep a relationship that serious a secret. “But I really like him. Eventually it might have gotten to that point and what then? If the tabloid articles are this bad when I’m just the random girl he’s dating, how bad would it be if we got engaged? Would reporters start bothering my roommate? My old friends from school? You? I didn’t know where it would end. You’ve already been through so much. Having me ruined all your dreams but you’ve made such a great life for yourself now. I don’t want anything to mess that up.”
She puts down her fork. “Casey, you may have changed my dreams but you didn’t ruin them. Even though your father leaving me hurt, I got the best part of him. I got you. Sometimes I worry that what happened to me made you afraid to fail. But no one learns to walk without falling a few times. As long as you get back up and keep going, it’ll all work out. Don’t run away from a chance at happiness.”
“Running away seems to be what I do best.”
She pats my hand. “Maybe it’s time to change that. Just think about what I said.”
She moves around the kitchen cleaning up before going back to her room to shower. I do some laundry and then vacuum the living room. Since she’ll be going to work soon, I slip a few hundred dollars into her wallet behind some coupons. Hopefully she won’t notice until I’m gone.
But all the while I’m doing as I promised and thinking about what she said. Before that stupid tabloid article, I was happy. I was ready to take the leap and then at the first sign of trouble, I bolted. Is my mom right?
Am I afraid to fail?
Andre is everything I’ve ever wanted. Have I gotten so used to things going wrong that I can’t even enjoy it when they’re finally going right? Because even though the situation was bad, our relationship was good.
So why didn’t I have more faith in us?
Saying goodbye to my mom the next afternoon is really hard. But it’s almost time for her to go in for her shift and I really need to get on the road. It’s only four hours back to D.C. but I need to give myself time to return the rental car. Then hopefully I can get to the apartment and get some sleep before work tomorrow.
My reprieve is officially over.
“You call me as soon as you get back to the city. Don’t forget.” She squeezes me tighter. “I love you, Casey. It’s all going to work out honey, you’ll see.”
After another round of hugs and a few tears, I manage to get out of the house. My small duffel bag goes in the backseat before I carefully back out of her driveway. I’m out of practice at this driving thing. I got the insurance on the rental car but the last thing I want is to have an accident on top of everything else.
On the way down Main Street, I stop at the coffee house to get something to keep me awake on the road. As I walk inside, I take in the renovated interior. Java Joes has been here since forever and I’ve never seen it look so good. It’s owned by a man named Joe who had a daughter a grade behind me in school. She always used to work here in the summers and give the kids from school free drinks. The memory makes me smile.
There were hard things about growing up in Gracewell but there were good things, too.
“Casey? Casey Michaels?”
The brunette approaching me looks really familiar but I can’t quite come up with a name. Until she smiles and then it hits me.
“Ginger Evans? Wow, I haven’t seen you in ages.”
We hug and she looks me over from head to toe. “I just moved back to town. You look great. Your mom said you’ve been working in the city. That’s so exciting. Or at least it sounds that way to me since I usually spend my days covered in barf and wearing the same yoga pants that I’ve already been wearing for three days straight.”
Her description of her life makes me crack up. “I’ve seen your kids on Facebook. They’re adorable so I’m sure the barf days are worth it.”
She grins. “Totally worth it. So how long are you in town?”
“I’m actually on my way back.”
“That’s too bad. I wish I could have gotten some of our old friends together for drinks or something. Everyone’s missed you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “The same people who gossiped about me being a home wrecker? The ones who believed Bob, the Car Wash King, over me?”
Ginger rolls her eyes. “Every damn body in this town knows Bob is a pervert. No one believed him. They just gossip because there’s nothing else to do.”
“I bet they’re having fun gossiping about me right now, too.”
She winces. “I wasn’t going to mention it. That article was terrible. But at least your boyfriend is hot.”
That makes me laugh. “You haven’t changed a bit, Ginger.”
She pats my arm. “Seriously, don’t let the busybodies get you down. None of us would ever do anything interesting if we listened to what other people say.”
“You know what, you’re right. And I think I needed to hear that today.”
“Well, it was good to see you.” She orders her coffee and then waves as she leaves.
I get my latte and then carry it back to my car. My eyes wander over to my bag where I’ve kept my phone this past week. After the first two days, I turned it off. I couldn’t stomach seeing all the calls from Andre’s number. My resolve was weakening and I knew I’d eventually cave and answer.
But it’s time now.
As soon as I turn the phone back on and it gets a signal it lights up like a firecracker with red flags indicating all the calls, voicemails, texts and emails I need to read. I go straight to the voicemails since there’s only one of those. It’s from Andre.
Casey, I’m so sorry.
This is exactly the type of thing I wanted to shield you from. So even though I don’t want to, I’m going to do what you asked me to in the beginning. Leave you alone.
I love you.
Tears stream down my cheeks the whole way back to D.C.
24
* * *
After dropping off the rental car, I’m way too tired to deal with the metro so I take a cab back to my apartment. The lights are on so I know Ariana’s home. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see me doing something other than cry.
I unlock the door to find Ariana and Mya curled up on the couch watching a movie. When she sees me, Ari reaches out and pauses whatever’s on the screen.
“You’re back!”
I’m stunned when Ariana jumps up and walks over to hug me. Finally she says, “I’m not used to feeling all these emotions. Hug me back before it gets weird.”
Laughing I hug her before dropping my duffel bag at my feet. “I actually missed you while I was gone. Imagine that. My mom got a kick out of hearing some of my stories about you.”
Mya shakes her head. “Was she worried that you’re rooming with a serial killer?”
“After that tabloid story she was worried I’m selling my virtue to every businessman I meet.”
Mya winces. “Oh man. That must have been a hard conversation.”
“You have no idea. But things are good now. She gave me the kick in the pants I needed to get back to my life and stop running away from my problems. Which means I should probably stop being a coward and actually call Andre back.”
Ariana snorts. “No way. We haven’t forgiven him yet.”
“Because it’s all about you, right?” Mya throws one of the pillows from the couch at Ariana. “You should have gotten better at this since I needed you.”
“I am good at this. I did my part. I yelled at him when he came by,” Ariana says.
“He came here?” I grab Ariana’s arm. “When was that? What did he say? Did he come back?”
“Whoa, first loosen your talons, woman!” Ari peels my fingers from her arm. “And it was Friday. Way too late by the way. That’s what I told him. I felt kind of bad for him at the end. Hot men who are sad just get hotter somehow. It’s not fair.”
“No. It’s not.” I sink down onto the couch between them. “And he left a voicemail saying that he’s going to leave me alone now. That this isn’t what he wanted for me and that he loves me.”
“Do you believe him?” Mya asks.
“I honestly don’t know. How do I distinguish between what I want to believe and what’s actually true? All that crap in the tabloid article about the women in his past was a huge wake up call. I just know I can’t keep running. Eventually I’m going to have to see him again and I need to be ready to handle it.”
“Oooh, it’s going to be so hot when you see him again. All that sexual tension while his eyes smolder at you in Italian. Or you could just look at him on Instagram like all the rest of his thirsty fans.” Ariana pulls out her phone.
Mya screeches. “You can’t show her his Instagram, Ari. I don’t think that’s helpful when going through a breakup.”
“What’s the big deal? She’s trying to figure out how to deal with seeing him again. If she can’t handle seeing him online then it’s only going to be worse seeing him in person.”
I crinkle my nose. “You can be really logical sometimes. And then you do things like wear a wetsuit in the house as loungewear.”
Ari winks, “One day all of the weird shit I do will make sense. In the meantime, scroll on through.”
She hands me her phone. Andre’s Instagram profile is already displayed. I click the last picture. It was posted this morning. The background appears to be his office. He’s drawing something and completely focused on it. The caption reads, Hard at work on Lavin Couture’s new evening wear line.
It’s completely impersonal and I’m sure it was written by his social media team. But even looking at this bland picture, I feel an undeniable pull. I’m supposed to be desensitizing myself to him and instead I’m just being pulled in harder.
“Why can’t I stop thinking about him. Why can’t I stop wanting him?”
“You’ve been dickmatized,” Ari says sagely like she’s imparting some ancient wisdom. “Mesmerized by good dick. Don’t feel alone. It’s happened to me before and I thought I was immune. I mean, really? Who among us has not been dickmatized at least once in our lives?”
Mya taps her chin. “She makes a good point. Great sex can make anyone do crazy things.”
“But it wasn’t just the sex. It was the talking. And the way he made me feel like I could do anything.”
“Sounds like love to me,” Mya comments.
“It was. At least for me. But after everything that happened, I did what I always do when I’m scared. Run away.”
“What are you really scared of here?” Mya asks. “Because I don’t think it’s just the fact that those pictures were published. They were terrible, of course. But they were blurry and you couldn’t really see much. Somehow I don’t think a blurry shot of bathroom sex is really what this is about.”
“He tried to prepare me for how bad public life can be but I don’t think I really understood how famous he is. It’s one thing to know that he has ten million Instagram followers. It’s another thing to have those followers leaving hate comments and calling you a slut. Saying that you’re not pr
etty enough to be with him.”
“You know those bitches are just jealous, right?” Ariana interjects. “Just checking. Because they’re all jealous. Hell, I’m jealous. You got it on with one of the hottest men on the planet so no matter who you were, they were going to say those things.”
“I get that.”
Mya squeezes my hand. “But that’s not what this is really about. You’re worried he’s secretly thinking those things, too. That maybe he’s just having some fun while he’s in town and he’s going to go back to dating some model when he’s bored with you.”
Taken aback by how accurate that is, I lean my head back on the couch. “I’m so stupid. He didn’t do anything wrong and I made him feel like it was all his fault. Now he’s done what I asked him to and given me space. How do I go back and say, Just kidding! I was being an insecure jealous cow.”
When I’m done, Ariana rolls her eyes. “Why is everyone in love so annoying? First this one,” she points at Mya, “and now you, too. Love is a disease.”
“Don’t listen to Mistress Bitterness over there. Underneath her skepticism and hatred for all things emotional, she really wants you to be happy. Which is why we are going to distract you with the breakup cure.” Mya hops up and heads into the kitchen.
“What is the breakup cure?” I ask.
Ariana grabs the remote again. “It’s the time-honored tradition of eating ice cream and watching tons of chick flicks.”
Mya comes back with several pints of ice cream, three spoons and then grabs the blanket hanging over the edge of the couch. “Things will work themselves out. I truly believe that. But tomorrow is soon enough to start being responsible and strong. Today, we eat ice cream.”
I accept the spoon Ariana hands me. Going back to work tomorrow is definitely going to be strange but I plan to walk into the office with my head held high.
