I close my eyes and burrow into Max’s shoulder as he rushes us out into the night, and in its darkness, all the emptiness it holds.
Chapter Nine / The Aftermath
I wouldn’t want to belong to a club that would have me as a member.
~Groucho Marx
Although my eyes are wedged shut and I’m curled against the car door, I gradually get a sense that we’re going too fast on the freeway. I open my eyes. Max’s grip on the steering wheel is so tight, his knuckles are white.
I glance at the speedometer and note that we’re going over ninety miles an hour in a sixty-five-mile-an-hour zone. It’s apparent that he’s still amped up from the altercation with Jonathan.
I feel a wave of gratitude for how he’s taken care of me. “Max, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there. As horrified as I am that you had to see all that, thank God you were there.”
I’m not sure if my words will do the trick and break through the wall of silence that’s been between us since we sped away from the valet stand. I take a deep breath and quietly whisper, “Thank you for looking out for me.”
He doesn’t say anything, but I can see him relax his death grip on the steering wheel slightly, and the car slows down a little. Without looking away from the road, he grabs my hand, gives it a squeeze, and then lets go. For that brief moment, I feel hopeful that our friendship is still strong.
The freeway lights pass by in a long streaky blur. I finally allow the wheels to grind in my head and pieces from this jigsaw puzzle of my time with Jonathan slowly slide together.
The voice in my head taunts me. You stupid girl . . . Of course the signs were there if you’d paid more attention. He set it up so that he called you and made the plans—he was always in control. You never went to his place or knew anything about his personal life. He was so smooth—a stealthy cheater—as he pursued you sexually. Why didn’t you recognize that this man plays young women like a sport?
I’m disgusted with what’s happened. How will I ever trust anyone again, most of all myself? I start to cry bitter tears.
“Were you falling in love with him, Ava?” Max’s anguished voice fills the charged air inside the car, his body bowing forward, as if he’s been punched in the stomach.
“No!” I insist sharply in between sobs.
“I’m sorry, but I have to wonder, since you’re so devastated by all of this.”
“Believe me, that’s not why I’m upset. The only thing I ever loved was how he treated me, but now I know it was all a sham.”
I hear him exhale a long sigh of relief.
“I should’ve known. I should’ve been more careful. Infidelity is evil; it’s how I was taught. My grandfather was a cheater and it destroyed his whole family. My dad would be so disappointed in me, Max,” I whisper, and the tears start again. This time, when he takes my hand, he doesn’t let go.
I look out the window, and we remain silent all the way home. My self-inflicted emotional flogging continues. I played with fire and got burned badly. Each passing minute brings a new realization, and I sink lower and lower. As Max speeds along, the little door in my heart slowly closes and locks.
Max finds a parking space near my apartment and shuts off the engine. I gather up my skirt and turn toward the door, not able to face him because of my embarrassment.
“Okay, thanks for driving me home. I really appreciate it.” I’ve never wanted to be inside and shut away from the world so much in my life.
“I’m coming with you.” There’s conviction in his words.
I turn back and face him. “Why?”
He looks down at me with the narrow eyes and pursed mouth of disapproval that feels parental—as if I don’t have any idea what I actually need. I find this irritating.
“Thanks, but it really isn’t necessary. I’ve been enough of a burden tonight. I’m going to figure out a way to knock myself out, and hopefully sleep until it’s time for work on Monday.”
He gives me another look, gets out of the car, walks around and opens my door.
“Come on, Ava. Let’s go.”
I carefully step out of the car, then lean on Max and hold the railing as we ascend the stairs to the apartment.
Once inside, I begin to shed reminders of my evening. The shoes are kicked into the back of my closet. The necklace and earrings are carefully set in the ceramic dish on my dresser. The dress, however, requires Max’s assistance to unfasten. I feel his fingers graze the top of my back before he slowly slides the zipper down, exposing my naked back as the dress falls open. I turn around and catch the dark look in his eyes before he turns away.
If the circumstances had been different, this would represent the promise of so much more. Sadly, we’re both aware of how, this time, it’s something else entirely.
Max is in the kitchen when I finally emerge from the bathroom, makeup free with my sweats on. He’s poured vodka shots into juice glasses, and I down my first hit before he can offer me the glass.
“Slow down, cowgirl,” he warns, as I pour myself another shot.
“Why? So I can keep my wits about me and come to my senses about all that happened tonight? I need to forget, because nothing’s going to make this better, Max. It’s only going to get worse.”
He roughly rubs his face with his hands and lets out a long-suffering sigh.
“Because I’m an idiot. I’ll end up with no career in the art world that I love so much. And inside, I’m a bigger mess than when I arrived here five years ago. At least then I had a plan, and I stuck to it. If I had just stuck to my plan—”
I quickly down the second shot and feel the fire creep down my throat.
“So, what was your plan?” he asks, as he downs his first shot.
“After my mom bailed, I decided to never make myself vulnerable to anyone, and I mean anyone. She trusted her boyfriend, Russ—he seemed like an okay guy, and look what fucking happened. He ruined her.”
Max opens his mouth, as if he’s going to ask me something, but then he presses his lips together and nods once.
“Once I moved out here, I would date once in a while, and even sleep with a guy if he was nice and I was really attracted to him, but I wouldn’t let anyone get close . . . get under my skin. And when I stuck to the plan, things were fine!” I pound my fists on the table to emphasize my point.
“Fine?” Max looks a little alarmed, and doesn’t sound convinced, but I ignore him.
“And then all the rules went to hell.” I pour another shot, roll it around my glass, lift it to my lips, and suck it down. The room spins a bit.
I point accusingly. “So, I met you, and you dazzled the hell out of me. I wanted to be with you so damn much. You must have known how much I wanted you—wanted to sleep with you—and if you had wanted to, I can promise I would’ve done it again and again. That was the first sign that my rules weren’t working.” I cringe, realizing that the alcohol’s hit me too hard, too fast, and my mouth is out of control.
Max’s face flushes and he rubs the back of his neck. He slowly stands and moves the vodka bottle to the far end of the kitchen.
I rest my head on the table and feel the coolness of the wood on my hot cheek. Tears pool up in my eyes and slide down sideways across my face onto the wood.
He picks up a stray napkin from the table and gently blots the tears from my cheek.
I’ve had too much vodka. I look up and Max shimmers like a mirage on the desert.
A sob escapes me and I tighten my fists. “I thought you didn’t want me, but Jonathan sure did. He told me I was beautiful and talented and made me feel really wanted. It was that simple. I’ve become so motherfucking needy. It’s pathetic.”
“Ava,” he whispers with anguish in his voice before he pulls me into his arms. “I’m here now. Let me help you through this.”
“I don’t want any damn help.” I fight him, but he holds me tighter.
“I want to live on a fucking island all by myself. When you let peopl
e get close, you do stupid things. And when you open your heart to someone, you also make yourself vulnerable to lose them . . . And I’ve lost too much already. I can’t afford to lose any more.”
“Okay, angel. We’ll find you an island,” he says with a soothing voice.
“Yeah,” I moan and I curl into his side.
“Can I come visit you on your island?”
“Are you teasing me?” I slur and look into his big blue gray eyes. “Well, maybe you can visit.”
“Good, because I’ll really miss you.”
I let out a long sigh.
He kisses the top of my head, and then he slips his arm under my legs and lifts me up. “Come on, I think you need to lie down.”
He carries me into my bedroom and gently settles me on my bed. He disappears for a moment, but returns with a glass of water and bottle of aspirin. He pries open the bottle and hands me two tablets.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask.
“No, why would I be mad at you?”
“Because of Jonathan, because I was stupid.”
“Well, I have quite a history of doing stupid things. So I wouldn’t pass judgment on you for that mistake. I’ll reserve all my anger for Jonathan.”
“You’re pretty impressive when you express your anger, you know.”
He rolls his eyes before I take the glass from him.
“Why are you here doing this?” I ask, before washing down the pills.
“Because I care about you.” He sits on the other half of the bed and pulls me closer. My head ends up against his chest, and he gently runs his fingers through my hair over and over. There’s something about the way it feels that tears me up inside, and when it hits me, I cry even harder.
“What, Ava?” His touch becomes even more gentle and soothing.
“I miss my mom. She used to do this when I was sad. I miss her so much, Max.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispers as he continues to stroke my head. “I’m so sorry.”
I continue to cry. When I’m completely exhausted and have depleted my supply of tears, I finally taper off.
“Do you want me to stay here tonight? You should try to sleep.”
Part of me desperately wants him to, remembering how it felt when he spooned me in Malibu after the robbery. But the other part, the girl with the closed heart, knows I need to be alone so I can sort through the emotional aftermath of the night.
“I think I need to be alone.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. He slowly shifts me off his chest and carefully gets up before peeling back the bedding. “Come on, get under the covers,” he says and pats the bed.
I scoot over and settle in, watching him as he tucks the covers around me. There’s such sadness in his eyes, and I feel even worse knowing that I’m responsible for his melancholy mood. He leans down and kisses my forehead before brushing his fingertips across my cheek. “Goodnight, angel. Try to sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow to check on you, okay?”
The tears already pool in my eyes. “Thanks, Max. You really are wonderful, you know.”
He gives me a tender smile and walks quietly out of my room, closing my door behind him. I feel a surge of panic. For this past hour, Max has been my anchor holding me at shore, but now that he’s gone, I’m untethered with nothing but the stormy sea in front of me. I curl tightly into my sheets to occupy the smallest possible amount of space before I hurl myself into the darkness.
I don’t resurface for days.
I have the vague sensation of someone moving around my room. Go away, I hiss silently and burrow further into my blankets. The blinds shift, making the room brighter. No! Darker not brighter. I’m angry with my intruder. When my window opens, the resulting fresh air wakes me up a bit more.
“Ava . . . Ava, wake up.”
Riley.
“What are you doing?” I groan. “Leave me alone.”
“Well, actually, I was checking to make sure you’re still alive. I’ve never seen you sleep this late before.”
“What time is it?”
“Two in the afternoon. Are you sick or something?”
“Sick in the head. You can leave now. I’m going to sleep some more.” I roll away from her.
“Ava, you need to get up. Come on. I’m going to make you something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” I grumble.
She walks out of the room, but comes back about ten minutes later, carrying a tray with buttered toast, a container of yogurt, and a mug of herbal tea.
“Come on, sit up,” she demands.
I do as I’m told and she lays the tray in my lap. Initially, I plan to ignore the spread before me . . . I have no appetite. But then I realize, the sooner I eat something, the sooner she’ll leave me alone. I bite into a corner of the flavorless toast. It could be cardboard for all I care.
“What exactly happened when you guys disappeared last night? I figured from the rush Max was in that it wasn’t good,” she asks, digging for details.
“Hmm. I had a nice bonding session with Jonathan’s wife.”
“Oh God, no.”
“Oh yeah. I guess, considering everything, she was quite civil. Well, except for the part where she threatened to ruin my career.”
Riley’s expression drops. “No,” she says with a tight voice.
“Yes, I guess she’s had a lot of practice at this. Fucking around outside his marriage is the dirtbag’s hobby, so I wasn’t the first floozy she’s had to straighten out. Actually, what was the word she used? Oh yeah . . . young innocents . . . evidently that’s the type Jonathan usually goes for.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Ava.”
“The humiliation was unbelievable. She knew all about Spago and Santa Barbara. She probably has pictures of us on that patio with my legs wrapped around his face. I just wanted to die. I was so embarrassed and disgusted with myself when she threw it all back in my face.”
“Why would you be disgusted with yourself? It’s not your fault he lied. You didn’t know he was married.”
“I didn’t know he was married . . . but I should’ve realized something was wrong. Did I really need attention so badly that I’d offer myself on a silver platter to a wolf? I’m pathetic.”
“Oh, Ava, please don’t say that. Don’t let him do this to you.” She pauses and then tilts her head. “So, Max brought you home?”
“Oh, that was just the beginning of the fun. Jonathan paid me a visit while Max was looking for you.”
“What did the bastard want?”
“He was spewing some crap like ‘it’s not what it seems’ and ‘you have to understand how I feel about you’ . . . blah, blah, blah. He actually tried to convince me to stay with him while his wife was probably out there bidding on a romantic weekend for them at the auction. I wanted to vomit all over him.”
“No fucking way.”
“I tried to get away from him, and the asshole grabbed me hard. Max charged in and ripped Jonathan off me, threw him against the wall, and started to choke him. I swear, if I hadn’t stopped him, I think Max would’ve killed him. It was like I was in a bad movie.”
“That’s so damned hot.”
“Well, at the time, it was pretty damned frightening. I’ve never seen such a display of testosterone up close. But as soon as I got Max to focus back on me, he rushed me out of the house and got me home.”
“Max . . . our hero!”
“He was definitely my hero last night. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him. And he was really sweet trying to take care of me when we got back here. He let me get drunk and rant and cry, and then he rubbed my head.”
“He really cares about you.”
“Well, I can’t imagine why, especially after last night. Today, he’s probably relieved we didn’t hook up.”
“Don’t say that, Ava. I probably shouldn’t say this . . . especially now, but Dylan thinks Max is in love with you.”
I see through Riley’s thinly-veiled attempt to get me
to focus on anything but Jonathan.
“Dylan has love on the brain. He’s looking at the world through the rose-tinted glasses of your insatiable sexual appetite.”
“So, it’s the sex, that’s lovely, thank you. Are you going to be bitter and bitchy now that you’re a scorned woman and push away everyone around you?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Okay then, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll give you a day to wallow, and then you’re going to snap out of it. Tomorrow will be a new day, my friend.”
She moves the mug of tea to my nightstand and picks up the tray with the yogurt and toast remnants.
“Meanwhile, your phone is ringing every five minutes and making me crazy. Can you do something about it please?”
I slowly get out of bed and wander into the living room where I’d thrown down my evening bag. I dig my phone out and shut it off without even checking it. Then I crawl back in bed. I’m surprised how quickly sleep takes me.
Sometime in the evening, Riley wakes me up again to check on me and asks if I’ll join her and Dylan for a movie. I just stare until she leaves the room. I wonder if I’ve freaked her out, although I don’t intend to be a bitch, especially to her. I vow to make an extra effort to be nice when I see her next. I watch the pattern of light and shadows on my wall for a while until my eyes get heavy again.
While I lie there willing myself back to sleep, the doorbell rings. I hold still as a mouse and listen. Sure enough, the bell rings again. Fuck, fuck, fuck. There’s absolutely no one I want to see. The bell keeps ringing at increasingly faster intervals. Angry, I ease out of bed and tiptoe into the hallway. A moment later, someone bangs on the door.
“Ava, I have to talk to you. I’ve called you all day long, and you won’t answer, damn it. I know you’re in there. I saw your light on before Riley left, and you didn’t go with her.” Jonathan’s muffled voice paralyzes me.
Is he fucking stalking me? How long has he been out there? A chill shoots up my spine. Where’s a goddamned flamethrower when you need one?
Work of Art ~ the Collection Page 36
